


22,400 Miles Above

by WillowDragonCat



Series: Opposites Attract [2]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Drama, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Love, M/M, Romantic Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:15:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28793034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowDragonCat/pseuds/WillowDragonCat
Summary: Perfect is not when compatible people come together, it's when they are opposites but in that way they complete each other.Part Two of the ongoing Opposites Attract Series.(Rated mature for occasional strong language and some scenes of danger, violence, sexual situations. All efforts will be made to ensure adequate warnings at the beginning of the chapter for things that might be triggering for some readers. All graphic love making will be in a separate side story)
Relationships: John Tracy/Original Characters, John Tracy/Selene Tempest, Scott Tracy/ Catriona George, Scott Tracy/Original Character(s), Selene Tempest/John Tracy
Series: Opposites Attract [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2110989
Comments: 29
Kudos: 28





	1. Recap

**Author's Note:**

> A little reminder of the end of the last chapter of Written In The Stars- Opposites Attract

There was something decadent about waking up under your own steam rather than being jolted awake by the blaring of an alarm clock or an emergency call. 

Selene didn't bother opening her eyes, not wanting to face the brightness of the daylight that would be pouring in through the curtains that hadn't seemed important enough to close the night before. 

She was so comfortable, flat on her back in a super soft bed piled high with squishy pillows, did she have to move yet? She didn't think so. Surely as the bride she was allowed a certain amount of leeway considering the day they had had? 

Once the rain had come the party had started to wind down, people that had been up all day now feeling the effects of the late night. The coach had been called and those that were staying in the neighbouring hotel had gratefully piled in, more than ready to head to bed. 

For the Island dwellers and the guests that had come with them the night had still been young and they had relocated to Penelope's parlour for coffees and some of the wedding cake. 

John and Selene had joined them for a cup but, still being soaked to the skin from their time outside and now feeling decidedly chilly, they had made their excuses and retired, needing a shower and a change of clothes. 

Penelope, in an effort to afford them a little privacy, had housed them in one of the small cottages in the grounds. Once belonging to the ground keeper it had been converted into a charmingly modern little guest house with a large shower that they had made good use of. 

Thankfully they hadn't promised to return to their guests after drying off, so they felt no guilt in tumbling into bed, intent on spending the rest of their waking hours alone together. 

Selene stretched out as best she could, limbs still heavy with sleep, feeling the comforting weight of an arm thrown possessively across her chest.

Sighing contentedly she started to roll over, meaning to snuggle closer and go back to sleep when a sharp pain stopped her in her tracks. 

"The fuck?" 

Her eyes shot open, her sleep addled brain struggling to catch up and make sense of what she was seeing. 

"You're not Armie," she told the cat that was camped out on her chest where a John arm was supposed to be. The cat blinked in response to her observation. "Though it would be hard, considering he's back on the island with MAX." 

The cat's paws flexed, needle sharp claws pricking into her skin again. Well, that explained the ouch. 

“I didn’t know Penny had a cat. Where did you even come from, how did you get in here? Do you belong to a neighbour or something?" 

She turned her head to wake John, not really surprised to find that the bed beside her was empty. 

"He left me already," she grumbled goodnaturedly, not really minding. Crossing time zones was a hazard of their job and it played havoc with their sleeping patterns, meaning they were used to being up and about when they were supposed to be sleeping or vice versa. 

"Shall I assume that you snuck as he left?" she smiled at the cat. "You're a beautiful one, aren't you?"

It really was gorgeous, the pretty bengal coat shot through with all variants of the brown ginger spectrum, fur sleek and silky looking, the sharp boned triangular face so lovely.

The cat meowed at her, obviously agreeing with her assessment of its handsomeness, its claws digging deeper into her bare chest. 

“Hey, watch the claws, buddy. Those pillows don’t belong to you, I’m a married lady now."

She reached out a hand to stroke the cat, unable to resist the lure of its soft fur any longer. 

The moment her fingers touched the cat's head she felt it, a tingle of awareness that called to her on a soul deep level. 

She looked again at the creature's eyes, a startling shade of bluey green the likes of which she'd never seen in a cat before. But she recognised them, knew them as well as she knew her own. 

She didn't want to speak, almost like she worried that breaking her silence would make it real, but was unable to hold it in. She had to ask. She had to know. 

“John?”

The cat meowed an affirmative. 

"Well," she huffed, trying to remain calm. "That's not what I expected to wake up to, but I guess this proves that it runs in the family."


	2. Repercussions Of The Night Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selene woke up with a cat for a husband, that can't be right, can it?

When you were a member of one of the most elite rescue teams in the world you were used to being rudely awoken by an emergency call after very little sleep. But, since the GDF were supposed to be picking up the calls for all but the most dire of situations, Virgil could be forgiven for not responding straight off the bat.

His phone beeped with a text and then less than thirty seconds later with a call, both of which he ignored. This would not be an emergency as he knew it. This would be one of his idiot brothers having done something stupid that they needed saving from and he just wasn’t ready to face that, thank you very much. This was his time off time too, he was supposed to be having a break, dammit. His brother had just gotten married, he’d had far too many beers the night before and now he just wanted to sleep it off.

He lifted the pillow, the puffy, marshmallow cloud pillow, and stuffed his head under it, hoping that the world would go away. He was just drifting off again when a frantic banging on his door jolted him awake.

“Urghh,” he groaned to himself, trying to block out the sound of fist meeting wood. Maybe if he ignored them they would go away. A louder thump rang out, a different sound, burrowing under the pillow with him, assaulting his ears and stealing his peace. He tossed the pillow aside with a growl of frustration. “Did you just kick the door?” he yelled at whoever it was that had dared to disturb his slumber.

“Yes!” Selene yelled back. “Now open the fucking thing, it’s an emergency!”

Shit! There was no way she’d be there, pounding the crap out of his door, when she should be hauled up in the guest cottage doing things with his brother that he didn't want to think about, if it wasn't serious. 

“Alright! Alright! I’m coming!"

He hauled his arse out of bed, remembering to pause just long enough to pull on a pair of sweats, before throwing open the door.

“Gahh, what the hell?” something fluffy and warm was shoved in his face the second he swung the door open. He automatically reached out to accept whatever it was she had unceremoniously tossed his way. The creature flailed, arms and legs pinwheeling until he settled it more firmly, cradling it in his arms like a baby.

He looked down, realising that it was a cat of some description. He wasn’t really up on cat breeds, he was more of a dog person. His knowledge was limited to naked, squashed face or Armstrong, and this cat was none of those. It’s coat was a beautiful mix of gingery orange and brown, looking like a cross between a tiger and a leopard but in miniature . It had tiger stripes on its paws, legs and head and leopard spots on its back.

“The cat is the emergency?” he asked, his brain still somewhat fuzzy. “Does John know about it or is that why you’ve given it to me? Because I’m pretty sure you could get away with calling it a wedding present and guilting him into allowing you to keep it.”

“Oh, he’s aware,” she snorted, and weirdly enough the cat let out a sound that was very similar in both tone and execution.

“Just keep an eye on him for me, try to keep him calm while I go and wake Tanzi and Nikos.”

“What? Why wouldn’t he be calm?” The cat looked perfectly chilled and at ease to him. Was it a stray that might suddenly go for his eyes? Was it an unexploded bomb of the feline variety? 

“Because he’s not used to being a cat, obviously. He woke up like that. Now stay there, I’ll be back.” 

“Woke up like what?” he called after her but she was already gone. “What else would he be?”

But she was already running down the hall, her black silk dressing gown billowing out like bat wings as she took off.

“Come on, Kitty,” he huffed, beyond confused, maybe he could go back to bed if the cat would settle down with him. The cat moved in his arms, lifting its head to look up at him with a pair of the most startling eyes he had ever seen on an animal. Eyes that were eerily familiar.

Her last words rattled around in his brain as he realised just what she had meant. 

“Damn, she wasn’t kidding when she said this was an emergency.”

***

“I need to know why this happened now and just how the hell we fix this!” Selene yelled, pacing her way around Virgil’s bedroom while the three humans, and one cat that should have been human, watched her every move.

“It’s not that I mind this,” she waved a hand in the John-cat’s direction, “being a thing, but it needs sorting. I refuse to spend the next week with a cat husband without being able to talk to him about it.”

John meowed an affirmation and she automatically reached out to pluck him from Virgil’s lap. “Don’t worry, baby, we’ll fix this.” She dropped a kiss on the cat’s head as she cradled him snuggly against her chest, almost suffocating him between her boobs. 

“Well, we know that it runs in the family,” Tanzi started, trying to be helpful. “So let’s go back to the beginning. Sel, did you manage to do any digging and find out anything more about the family history to confirm our theory?”

Selene nodded, settling John more comfortably in her arms as she paced. “Yeah, I spoke to Jeff about it and we managed to piece most of it together from what he remembered being told, from looking into the family records and talking to shifter families local to the area.”

Virgil frowned, as did the John-cat, which was decidedly weird to witness. “Why haven’t we heard about any of this yet?”

“Because we hadn’t finished putting it all together,” she sighed. “Honestly we didn’t think there was that much of a rush, you were chill and as far as we knew, no one else was affected by it.”

Virgil nodded, the answer making sense, now was not the time to start an argument about sharing with the class. “So what did you find out?”

The John-cat scrambled out of her arms and hauled itself up onto her shoulder, draping his body around her neck like a furry scarf. She absently reached up a hand to fondle his ears as she gathered her thoughts, trying to arrange them into some kind of order.

“Your mum’s family have a long history,” she began. “Have you ever heard of the Dreamtime?” Virgil and Nikos shook their heads, but Tanzi and John in cat form, nodded.

“The Dreamtime, putting it simply, is the myth of creation. Not the Christian version but the Aboriginal. Australian native mythology tells of ancestral beings who created the world so very long ago.” Selene sank to the floor as carefully as she could, trying not to dislodge John who was clinging to her shoulder with his claws. She arranged herself cross legged on the rug and patted her legs, staying still as the cat slunk his way down her chest to curl up on her lap. Once he was settled she continued.

“According to legend, once the creation of the world was complete the beings, instead of vanishing into the ether as many Gods did, decided to stick around, adopting the world as their own. They travelled across the earth, naming the land, the people and the animals who would belong there. These beings then merged their spirits with the natural world. Some went into the sky or the ground, bonding with the hills, rocks and watering holes while others became plants, animals and people.” She paused to run the tip of one finger down between John’s ears, ending with a gentle boop of his nose. He nipped her finger in retaliation, making her smile. 

“These beings were the early shape shifters, who could change back and forth between their human and animal forms. From what we can gather there were a few of these beings that went a little rogue. Rather than staying separate from their creations as they were supposed to, they moved among them, they interacted and some even fell in love. It was from this love that the first human deity hybrids were created. These demigod offspring had wondrous powers, an affinity with the earth and possessed amazing strength, speed, agility and resilience, as well as the ability to shift their shape to any creature they desired.”

Selene glanced up to make sure that everyone was paying attention. Nikos and Virgil looked very interested, while Tanzi was less so, having helped Selene with some of the research and, being kind of an expert in mythology herself, knowing the legend already. John’s paw landed on her hand, his claws digging in just enough to encourage her to continue both her story and her tickling of the underside of his chin.

“These offspring often came together to form tribes, each bearing children of their own, an intermingling pool of godlike abilities and genetics that produced some truly remarkable humans, each with gifts that they in turn passed on to their children. Over the years their abilities became diluted as the tribes grew, leaving some with only one or two of these special gifts but making them remarkable nonetheless. Enchanted beings that continued to grow and spread out into the world.”

“From our research we had concluded that your mothers family must have descended from one of those tribes,” Tanzi told Virgil and John. “But, with the genes so diluted now, the gifts either skip a generation or two or lay dormant until you have what is referred to as a triggering incident, like Virgil experienced.”

“What triggered it for John then?” Virgil wanted to know, his head spinning with all this new information. “I'd like to think that if he'd had a life threatening accident we'd have known about it."

" Of course you would," Selene glared. 

"And I know they've only just got married but I’m pretty sure we can rule out any nasty surprises in the bedroom department.”

Three human and one furry head all swiveled to stare at Selene. “Why am I being bogged at? He’s the one that sprouted ears and a tail!” she protested hotly. 

“Are you sure?” Tanzi asked, one eyebrow raised. “Nothing happened in the heat of the moment?”

“Of course I’m sure! There was nothing weird or unusual about that side of things, I can assure you.” John nodded hard in agreement and she stroked his head reassuringly, bending her head to whisper in his ear. 

“Well it had to have been something,” Tanzi pondered out loud. “These things don’t just happen.”

“Nothing happened!” Selene threw her arms up in frustration, yanking her dressing gown back into place when it flopped open, falling to cover John.

Nikos was up and by her side in a flash and, ignoring her protests and whapping hands, pulled aside the collar of the dressing gown she had hastily donned.

“What the hell are you doing?” Virgil yelled, coming to the rescue as always, not liking the way she was being mauled. 

“There,” Nikos declared triumphantly, pointing at her neck. 

“What?” Selene smacked his hand away, instinctively covering her neck to protect it.

“Let me see,” Tanzi insisted, bending to look, prising Selene's hand away. “Oh, yep, that’ll do it.”

"What? What's doing it? What even is it?" Selene wailed. "I'm so confused it's not even funny! All I wanted was a relaxed night with my husband where I didn't have to share him with the rest of the world and now he's a cat! I know I'm a witch but this is ridiculous, I don't want a cat husband unless it's on his terms."

"I think that's part of the problem," Tanzi sighed. 

"That it's not in his terms?" Virgil asked, confused. 

"No, that she's a witch," Tanzi answered. 

"You see that there?" Nikos pointed to her neck again and Virgil moved closer to look.

"Looks like a bite to me," Virgil shrugged, a shrug that turned into a grimace when his brain caught up with his mouth. "Urghhh, I did not need to see that." He hadn’t thought that cats could look smug, but if he didn't know better he'd think that was exactly what his brother was. 

"So?" Selene shrugged, falling back on her old faithful of if in doubt brazen it out. They had nothing to be ashamed of, they were adults in a committed relationship that were indulging in loving and consensual things. "It's not the first love nip and I doubt it'll be the last."

Virgil tried very hard not to laugh when Nikos rolled his eyes so hard he was surprised they hadn’t fallen out of the other man’s head. Nikos was a light hearted and easy going kind of guy, much like Virgil himself, that he’d gotten to know well over the past year and a half and he knew not to take any apparent grumpiness seriously. Nikos just didn't appreciate being woken early or dealing with idiots, all of which he was suffering from now. 

Tanzi smacked Nikos lightly on the shoulder, shoving him out of the way and back towards the bed. He dutifully sat down, not willing to argue with his mate. 

"Sel, what did you do yesterday?" 

Selene gave her a look that said she thought she was being particularly dense. "We got married, obviously."

"You handfasted, the old way," Tanzi pushed. 

"I'm aware of that," Selene sniffed, dropping another kiss on John’s snoot when he lifted his head. 

Tanzi returned the 'you're dense' look, with interest. 

"Well, you obviously know something we don't, so spell it out for us," Selene ordered, getting royally sick of being treated like she was as dim as a dying light bulb. 

"You're being thick," Nikos told her bluntly. Okay, apparently her mental light bulb had completely blown.

"Don't say it like that!" Tanzi whacked him again but he just grinned. "What he's trying to say in his dumbass way, is that your handfast was likely part of the reason that this has happened now. You remember how the bonding happens, right?" 

"I think so," Selene hedged, mentally rolling through all that she could recall about shifter bonding, which unfortunately was precious little. The shifter community were notoriously secretive about exactly what happened within their lives and traditions.

“I know something about...sex?” she guessed, since it was apparently the cause of all their current problems. She wondered how John would feel about celibacy? As if he had read her mind a nip to her hand told her everything she needed to know about his opinion of that idea. 

Tanzi sighed impatiently and Nikos facepalmed harder than Scott the time that Alan had fed Armstrong four cans of food instead of four times from the same can. There had been piles of kitty sick everywhere, Scott’s foot had gotten up close and personal with one, it hadn’t been pretty. Virgil just looked like he wanted to sleep. 

“You handfast, with a blood vow, you then had sex and got bitten, bitch it’s not hard to put the evidence together, is it? That’s his triggering incident, you dumbasses bonded without even knowing it,” Tanzi told them, pointing an accusatory finger at first Selene then John.

Selene opened her mouth like she was about to argue but shut it again when she realised she really had no excuse or answer for it. John lifted up, bonking his head against her chin in a show of solidarity and she instinctively nuzzled her cheek against the top of his head.

“OK, so what do we do now? How do we fix this?”

“There’s no fixing it, it’s not a broken vase,” Nikos snorted. “You’re lucky you found each other, it's more than a one in a million chance and you’re bitching.”

Selene’s face morphed from confused to pissed off in a matter of seconds as she scrambled to her feet, John tucked under her arm in what looked to Virgil to be some kind of choke hold. 

"I didn't mean I wanted to fix us! This," she shook the cat like a maraca, his legs swinging back and forth, "is my husband, my soul mate, I love him. It's not the fact that we bonded that I care about, I love that, I just care about him looking like a human again! My man needs his thumbs!" 

***

For someone as knowledgeable about all things preternatural and calm in that kind of crisis, Selene was anything but calm right now. She had continued to yell at Nikos while waving a protesting John around until Virgil had removed the cat from her grasp and Nikos had shoved her out of the room with orders to go and get dressed and bring clothes for John, they’d sort him out on their own.

She had banged on the door, demanding to be let in but Nikos held firm. 

"No, the more you panic the more it'll stress him out, go away, calm down and then you can come back," he told her firmly. 

She argued for a few more minutes before giving up and stomping off down the hall. 

Virgil let out a sigh of relief once she had left and peace reigned. He understood why she was stressing out about this more than she usually would, after all, it wasn’t every day that you woke up to a cat sitting on your chest and found out it was your husband. But her stress levels would be directly influencing John’s , who would be feeling enough of his own. 

The major thing about shifting form, Virgil had learnt, was that you had to be calm enough to do it. It required a clear mind and clear intentions to focus, it needed calm breathing and a relaxed body if it was going to go at all smoothly. For him trying to shift while stressed would be like trying to push his ‘bird up a hill during a hurricane while wearing flip flops.. Needless to say, it was next to impossible.

Tanzi had been dispatched to the kitchen in order to scrounge up some food, knowing that John’s energy levels would be verging on empty by the time he was done. Virgil recalled how he had felt while trying to shift back after his first turn, he’d tried so hard, strained with every fiber of his being, but nothing had worked. As a member of International Rescue he was used to doing almost everything by the seat of his pants, living off adrenaline, his wits and pure determination. But that had been entirely the wrong way to go about it. It hadn’t been easy to force his body and mind to act in a way that was totally alien to it , it had been painful and he’d been ravenous after. If John’s experience was anything like his he’d be grateful for the food and a chance to rest.

John, now that Selene had been ejected from the situation, was settled on Virgil’s abandoned pillow like he owned it, arranged in what Selene called loaf mode, his aqua eyes blinking slowly as if he were about to drop off to sleep. Huh, maybe he wouldn’t need that much help to calm down after all. 

“John?” Virgil called tentatively. The cat lifted his head, staring at him like it was judging him right down to his soul, which only helped cement the fact that it was indeed his brother. It wasn’t that he had doubted it, not really, since he himself turned into a wolf, but it was still a little hard to get his head around. 

John meowed demandingly, dragging Virgil out of his musings, as if to say ‘well, get on with it.’

“Are you ready to try shifting back?”

John seemed to pause to think about it, then he slowly uncurled, stretching out fully before plonking it’s butt down and staring up at him attentively. 

“What, are you waiting for some great wisdom?” 

John gave him a look that said he’d never expected anything of the sort, which wasn’t too encouraging.

“Nikos?” Virgil passed the baton to the more experienced shifter.

“There’s nothing to it, you simply think yourself out of it.” 

John-cat didn’t look too impressed with the level of instruction he had just been given.

“It’s hard to explain,” Nikos sighed, “I’m a full blood shifter, it comes naturally to me, I was born this way and have been shifting for as long as I can remember. It’s like asking someone how they think, how you walk, how you do anything. It’s second nature and not something you think about. You don’t actively say to yourself that you need to cross the room to pick up your phone and give your brain the instructions for the left leg, then right leg, you just do it. And that’s how it is for us.”

Virgil groaned, knowing it was likely going to be down to him to relay the facts. Trying to keep things as clear and easy to understand as possible, he began to talk. 

“The first time I shifted back was hard, the hardest part is keeping calm and your mind clear and focused. Sel talked me through it as you know, but obviously she’s too close to this situation to be involved.”

John nodded his understanding, head tipped to one side, ears twitching, clearly showing that he was listening intently.

“All I can do is tell you how I do it,” he sat down on the bed beside the cat, trying to gather his thoughts. “Nikos is right in a way, you have to think yourself out of it. You have to picture your human body in your mind and kinda command it to come out. You have to almost imagine it changing, stretching, growing in your case or shrinking in mine, see the change happening in your head. For me, I picture the different parts of my body and focus on how they will change, almost like a checklist and I let it come.”

Frustrated he dragged his fingers through his hair, making it stick up in all directions even more than it already was from what little sleep he’d had. John continued to watch him carefully as if sensing that he had more to say and waiting to hear it.

“I don’t know if you remember anything of your shift, Sel said you woke up like that, but I don’t know if that was possible. When I shift I feel a kind of buzzing energy, almost like my whole body has pins and needles. It starts somewhere in what I suppose you could call the pit of your stomach but Sel insists on calling the Solar Plexus and radiates out until it fills every part of your body.”

“We call that the changing,” Nikos added. “It’s the power of the shifter, your magic if you will, a natural energy that all shifters possess and that you need to tap into any time you wish to change. The feeling diminishes once the change is complete, meaning that you need to focus on finding it and building it up once more so you can shift again.”

“I use something like meditative breathing, closing my eyes and locating the little bubble of power, once you know it and recognise it you can feel that it’s always there. Almost like…” Virgil paused trying to think of a way to describe it. “Almost like your intuition, your gut feeling. You know that feeling you get when something doesn't feel right or when you know your hunch is correct?”

“Everyone has that,” Nikos agreed, “but for us it’s more than that, it’s animal instinct. I’m sure you’ll have noticed that your intuition, your hunches are stronger and more reliable than most peoples? That’s the reason, your heightened awareness and instincts. That’s what you have to tap into, that gut feeling, locate it, focus on it then fuel it so that it expands and grows more potent. Once you feel it fill you, you focus and you shift.”

“It takes a lot of practice,” Virgil warned John, who had gotten to his feet, apparently bored with the conversation. Padding across the bed he leapt down to the floor. “It took me a good few hours to shift back the first time and it left me so drained I slept for almost an entire day, as you well know. So don’t give u-” Virgil paused, his eyes widening in shock.

John had listened carefully to everything the two men had said, well, what little of it had actually made sense. They had a habit of beating around the bush rather than just getting to the point. He cared about facts, logical instructions and advice that would actually help. It seemed simple enough, just focusing your thoughts, something he excelled at, keeping that focus and willing it to happen. Piece of cake.

He knew what Nikos meant about the slumbering power inside him, in truth he’d always felt it there but dismissed it as many would as just a gut feeling or some kind of intuition that could be pushed aside until needed. Since meeting Selene he’d learnt to listen to it more, to pay more attention to it when it made itself known, seeing it as a reliable source of information rather than a fanciful notion that could be explained away.

He’d learnt to hone it, to focus it over two years of silly games that Selene insisted on playing with him when she was bored and wanted to keep her skills sharp. She liked to lay out her Zener cards and make him guess which ones she had. At first he’d found it silly, but soon even he had to grudgingly admit that, with practice, it had become easier for him and more often than not he was correct. They had progressed to her picking a card, focussing on the symbol and projecting it to him to try to pick up. Again the connection had come naturally to him and he would almost instantly see one of the simple symbols -a square, circle, cross, star or wavy lines- in his minds eye. He rarely got one wrong.

The same worked in reverse, he’d found he could project a simple image in much the same way and she would pick it up. At first he had seen it as a slightly tedious game of chance that she forced him into. But, the more she begged him to play with her and the more he’d beaten the odds of being correct, the more it had intrigued him. 

As was his custom he had researched and found that the cards had been in use, with various degrees of success, for more than a century and that they were seen as a legitimate tool, although he was still a healthy sceptic on the subject. But, scepticism aside, he could not find a way of explaining just how he seemed to do so well with the game even though he had eliminated every possible way of inadvertently cheating.

Now that he had an idea what he was supposed to be doing he found it easy enough to locate the origin of the power inside him. It felt just as it had the night before. It had buzzed there like a low level electric current, a small ball of something he couldn't find the words to describe but knew it all the same. He recalled how that energy had started as a barely there thing, dulled by the fact that he had been focused on much more interesting and pleasurable things at the time. He’d felt it, sure he had, but he’d paid it little attention, not when he had his woman under him. 

But even he, distracted as he was at the time, had noticed how hot he’d grown, how her fingers skimming the length of his spine had set off sparks that felt like static electric shocks on contact. He couldn’t explain in words, or even in his own mind, what had happened or how that energy inside him had seemed to expand, reaching outwards for the calming feel of her that he’d always been aware of since the first night they had met. Her calmness had done its job once again, acting like a balm to his, syphoning it off, blending it with her own, leaving them connected more deeply than any game of cards, any healing, any comforting action ever had. 

Thinking back on it as he was it had become clear in his mind just what Nikos and Tanzi had meant when they said they had bonded. He’d acted on instinct, pure and simple and, although he’d gotten a little nippy with her before, that time had felt different. It hadn’t been a purely pleasurable instinct but a far more primal one, on some level he had wanted to leave a physical mark of their joining. He’d never felt the need to mark his territory before, he was not a jealous man by any stretch of the imagination. She was not his property and he’d never felt the need to stamp his claim as many men would, yet the urge had been there and he’d been unable to ignore it. Shit.

He needed to find Selene, the urge to talk to his wife, to off load, to explain and probably to apologise, was great. And to do that he needed to get out of this form and into the one where he could actually talk. Wasting no more time he jumped down from the bed.

Clearing his mind of everything but the need to be human he focused on the energy inside him. Logic told him that a small amount wouldn’t be enough even if Nikos hadn’t said the same, so he did the only thing he could think of, he pictured Selene in his mind, bringing into focus the way the energy had flooded through him the night before. It responded easily to him, following his instructions as if he’d been doing so all his life. 

He felt very much like he had the previous night, like he had a fever, like his skin was tightening, pins and needle like sensations spreading out, enveloping him in a bubble of sensation that felt both alien and strangely familiar all at once. Not really sure what he was doing but allowing his instincts to guide him he closed his eyes and pictured, as best he could recall, how he usually looked. He was not one to stare into mirrors all day and take that much of an interest in his appearance as certain brothers of his did. He managed to dredge up the last time he had studied himself, looking in his bedroom mirror, dressed in his wedding suit, about to head down to the beach.

He’d heard the shift was painful at first until you were used to it and braced himself to feel like he was being ripped apart from the inside, as described in such lovely detail by the man currently staring at him from the bed. Virgil looked so big, huge in fact, like a giant, an alien concept for John, since he was more used to looking down at the top of his brother's head or seeing him in holographic form.

He took a deep breath and focused on the image he needed. He imagined his legs elongating, the fur being replaced with smooth skin, his snout returning to a separate nose and mouth, his pointed ears shrinking down and rounding out to his normal human ones. Quickly but methodically he catalogued every body part, seeing it in his mind's eyes as it should be rather than as it was.

The tingling, buzzing sensation increased to the point that it was hard to keep the focus he needed, sounding like a swarm of bees in his brain, yet he refused to let it distract him. If there was anything he was good at it was blocking out unwanted sounds and focusing on one particular thing, he did it every day, he was the master of calm, collected focus. He didn’t allow anything to ruffle him if he could help it. As long as he had a clear goal in his mind, as long as he knew the mechanics and the workings he could focus on his objective and succeed. He always did.

“Get your dick out of my face!”

Who the hell was yelling when he was trying to concentrate? He swore to all that Selene worshipped if one of his brothers had chosen that moment to do a drunken, celebratory streak through the room while he was having his own body crisis, he’d smack them into next week.

Virgil had expected a lot of things from his brother, but that had not been one of them. He’d steeled himself to dive in to help, to dispense comforting back rubs and fur strokes as Selene had done for him. He'd imagined himself as being a calm, supportive presence while John writhed in agony on the posh, antique rug as he forced his body and mind to accept that which at first seemed impossible. 

What he hadn’t expected was for John to close his eyes and within a few moments start to shift as smoothly as Nikos, as if he’d been doing it his entire life. Less than a minute later and his fully human brother stood before him, very healthy, very whole and very very naked.

John’s eyes snapped open. The first thing that registered was the fact that Virgil was no longer towering above him, in fact they seemed to have switched roles. The second was that he was completely bare arsed and apparently treating his brother to a showing of parts of his body that were now independently owned and maintained by his wife.

“Shit!” his hands shot down to cup and cover as much as he could as quickly as he could while Virgil, apparently now out of his shocked stupor, jumped up and whisked the blanket off the bed to toss at his brother.

The blanket landed on his head, leaving him momentarily blind while he tried to figure out if it was better to let go of his crotch in order to grab the blanket and arrange it to cover his modesty or if he should wait to be helped.

“You humans, so hung up on clothes and covering up,” Nikos sighed as he was forced to take pity on them, tugging the blanket down to drape around John's shoulders. 

“Thanks,” John said, releasing one hand to pull the blanket closed, not freeing the other until he was adequately covered.

“How did you do that?” Virgil asked, still stunned both by the sudden up close and personal with John’s danglies and the speed and ease in which his brother had shifted once he put his incredible mind to it. He really shouldn’t be surprised, if anyone was going to listen once, think it over and then grasp the concept as easily as if he were buttering a slice of toast, it was John. He mentally added that to the long list of things John was instantly good at.

John shrugged. “I’m not sure, I just did what you said, focused, built the power, envisioned how I should look and the next thing I know I’m giving you an eyeful. Sorry about that by the way, wasn’t intentional.” 

“Well, I guess you don’t need me now,” Nikos butted in. He was tired, he was a bit fed up with being woken up early on two consecutive days and the jet lag from going from england, to the island and back again over three days and having some weird times in between was taking its toll on both his human and his wolf side.

“Wait, don’t we need to see if he can change again once he’s had some food?” VIrgil asked, not wanting his brother’s continued education to be left to him.

“Learn by doing, my friend, learn by doing,” Nikos said, brushing him aside with a shoulder slap as he walked away. “Send Tanzi back to bed when she comes with the food.” 

“He’s pleasant,” John remarked as he tucked the blanket more securely around himself and sank into Nikos’s vacated chair.

“Not unlike yourself,” Virgil sighed, dropping his tired head into his hands and giving his face a vigorous rub. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” John answered immediately, mostly out of habit. At Virgil’s raised eyebrow he actually paused, taking a moment to conduct a proper inventory of his body. He felt a little shaky, like he would after a burst of intense physical exercise that he hadn’t warmed up for or cooled down from after. There was a little ache that might or might not blossom into something worse, but most of all he just felt hungry, more hungry than he had done in forever. He was well used to going without food for long periods of time or having his meals interrupted, they all were, but him more so. He was used to stuffing food in either when the opportunity presented itself, on the go or when Selene yelled at him. Mostly he could take it or leave it, but now he felt like he hadn’t eaten in a month.

“Hungry,” he announced, since that seemed to be the most pressing issue.

“Yeah,” Virgil snorted, “I’m not surprised, that’s normal. Tanzi should be back with something for you any minute now, hopefully with Selene and your clothes.”

John nodded, confident in the knowledge that his woman and her friend would scrounge up whatever they could in as timely a manner as possible. 

If it had been a movie or a novel Selene would have burst through the door at that moment, as if summoned by Virgil’s words, but as it was real life and not some fictional world he had to be content to wait. 

Not having anything else to say he lapsed into a contemplative silence, giving his brain time to turn everything over. He examined it all, recalling the process of shifting, storing away the information that he had learned, tumbling it around in his head until it made as much sense as it was going to, only then did he feel ready to engage in an actual conversation.

“Is there anything I need to know?”

“In what way?” Virgil asked, looking up from his phone with a guilty look, clearly having been absorbed in texting someone, probably Scott and likely about his situation. 

“I know you’ve been through this and, while the rest of us have watched from the sidelines I’ve not been as present as the others, so I haven’t seen the day to day challenges you might have faced. Is there anything I need to know? Will this affect me or my job in any negative ways?”

Typical John, thinking about work.

“It hasn’t affected me in any negative ways really, I just have to be careful of my energy levels, making sure that I eat more often and bigger portions. My shift was triggered by my life being in danger, so I’m constantly aware that a very dangerous situation could trigger it again which could be disastrous. By keeping well fed it allows me more control over it. I know yours is different but as we don’t know how or really understand why, it’s probably best to be prepared. Other than that and having to make sure I shift regularly to help control the urge, nothing has changed for me."

John nodded, seeing the sense in it. “Yours was very much a violent shift and, while I can’t recall much about mine, I know it was not the same. I woke up feeling very hot and tossed the covers aside since I believe it would have been bad etiquette to throw my new wife off me instead.”

“Yeah, I can’t see her being too happy about that,” Virgil agreed, his lips twitching in amusement.

“The heat grew almost unbearable and I felt, no, I sensed, everything more keenly.” John sighed, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “This isn’t really making sense and is very hard to describe, but it seemed like I could hear everything very intently. For example, it was still raining which should have drowned out most things, yet I could clearly hear something walking near the cottage, and I could smell toothpaste as she always forgets to put the lid back on the tube. I shouldn’t have been able to notice any of that.”

“That’s perfectly normal,” Virgil assured him. “What happened next?”

“I don’t honestly know. I just know that Sel rolled even closer and I had a fleeting thought that if I were smaller she’d have suffocated me by now but that if I were I could have made an escape.”

“And then?”

“I must have pictured something because the heat grew worse for a moment, I felt like my whole body was on fire but also strangely numb and tingly. But losing blood and sensation to body parts when you share a bed with a limpet like her is not unusual, so I didn’t think anything of it until I really was squashed.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Virgil clarified, barely able to believe what he was hearing. “You had a brief thought about being smaller, and you pictured something-” 

“Armstrong," John recalled, interrupting his brother, "I definitely pictured Armstong because last week I walked in late one night to find her pinning him to the pillow with her arm across him and I had to rescue him.”

“You pictured the cat and that was all it took? No, pain, no screaming, no fear?”

John shook his head.

“You literally just thought yourself into shifting by accident after bonding by accident?”

“Seems that way,” John admitted.

“You’re that super focused that you shifted without trying because you were being squashed?”

“Saying it over and over won’t change my answer.”

“I give up with you. Surely a cuddle isn’t that life threatening?”

“You weren’t there. Besides , it’s not like I did it on pur-”

“We’re back!” Tanzi yelled from outside, their only warning before the door was pushed open and the girls barged in. Tanzi was carrying a tray piled high with scavenged food and Selene was thankfully holding a pair of sweats and a T-shirt.

“Oh, thank the gods!” the clothes were unceremoniously dumped on the floor as Selene launched herself at John from across the room like she’d been shot from a cannon. Her arms locked around his neck as she smacked kisses all over his face, squashing him against her chest. He flailed but not only were his arms trapped in the blanket, resistance was always futile when she was determined to shower you with affection, Virgil knew this from his own bitter experience. Maybe he had been a little too judgemental about his brother’s near death experience by wife suffocation.

“Are you alright? Does anything hurt? Can I do anything? Do you need anything?” she continued to fire questions at him like bullets, not giving him more of a chance to contribute other than repeating that he was fine over and over and that he couldn’t breathe.

“Sel, maybe let him go so he can get dressed and eat, yeah?” Tanzi suggested gently, placing the tray on Virgil’s bedside table then retrieving the clothes. Virgil gave the tray a cursory glance, seeing it was filled with far more than even a hungry shifter could eat. He guessed that meant that he wasn’t getting his room back any time soon.

“Oh, yeah, sure, you’re right,” Selene disentangled her arms, freeing his brother, although she stood far too close to him, like she was half expecting him to vanish in a puff of smoke.

“I’m fine,” John assured her, nudging her gently with his foot, since he refused to let go of the blanket, urging her to step back a bit so he could stand up. “Can you put the clothes in the bathroom, please?” he asked Tanzi, who nodded, obliging by tossing them through the open doorway. 

“Thanks,” he said, just about managing to keep the sarcasm out of his voice as he shuffled through the door into the bathroom, shutting it behind him. Selene looked lost the second he vanished from view, even taking a few steps towards the bathroom before she stopped herself.

Virgil might not be as close to her as Scott was but he knew her well enough to know that something was really bothering her. She’d been the one to help him through his first shift, keeping him as calm as she could, supporting him, talking to him like he was still human so that he had some clue as to what was happening to him. He knew that, without her intervention or if she hadn't been there, he would very likely have died, stuck somewhere mid shift, unable to complete it, lacking both the knowledge and the power at that time.

She’d also been the one to talk him through shifting back, even though she had no experience of it herself. As before she had been a calm, reassuring presence by his side, lending him her strength and conviction that everything would be OK. she had faith in him and that faith had helped so much.

Not much ever seemed to phase her when it came to pitching in and helping out when things took a turn towards the strange and unusual. So, now that he thought about it, it was rather unnerving that she had deemed this an emergency and rushed to seek him out. 

The moment of his own shift had been one of panic and fear, no one but Grandma and their dad had known anything about that side of their family or that such a thing was even a possibility. John’s would have been different, for one they now knew about the shifter gene and secondly he would have been a lot more relaxed since he wasn’t fighting for his life. Logically she should have been as cool as a cucumber.

So why wasn’t she? Why hadn’t she calmly talked John through it like she had him? He could understand the initial panic, and why she might have felt she was unable to help, that was her husband after all. But now she had seen the he was fine, she'd talked to him and he was at that moment getting dressed ready for breakfast. 

So why was she looking like her world was about to cave in?


	3. What Greater Gift Than The Love Of A Cat

Kisses, kisses were good, kisses were so, so good. Selene sighed happily as her husband’s lips made a perfect landing, touching down gently on hers. A soft sweep of his tongue encouraged her lips to part, granting access as his arm slipped around her waist, pulling her closer.

She went willingly, shifting to slide onto his lap as the hand on the small of her back wormed its way under her shirt, fingers stroking softly at her skin. This was good, closer was good, that gave her an opportunity to let her own hands do some wandering. 

Having started out on his shoulders they soon picked up the slack, the fingers of one hand gently caressing the column of his throat and along his jaw, cupping his chin to hold his head in place as the kiss deepened. 

Her other hand, not to be outdone by his which had wound itself into her hair, copied his actions, tugging the hem of his T-shirt out of his jeans and sliding up underneath allowing her fingertips to map the delightful terrain of his chest.

“This was not supposed to be happening,” John mumbled against her lips.

“It started out as a kiss, how did it turn into this?” she quipped, earning herself a soft smack on the behind but his hand slid back under her shirt all the same. That was all the encouragement she needed.

Winding her arms around his neck she slid off his lap, dragging him down on top of her, her legs lifting to lock around his waist.

“You’re trouble,” he whispered, but she didn’t need to see the smile on his face to know he didn’t mean it. 

“Yep, but you love me for it.”

“I do,” he assured her, moaning softly when her tongue twinned around his own, coaxing it into a seductive dance. Her heart was thumping in her chest, flames of arousal bursting into life as he shifted his hips into a comfier position, bringing their lower bodies into closer contact, allowing her to feel the evidence of his desire which matched her own.

“Hey, we saw that the car was back, why are you sitting in the da-” the overhead lights flicked on, making them both jump.

“My God! My eyes!”

“Hey, what’s going- ewww!”

“Stop that!” A pillow flew across the room to bounce off John’s head. “You’re not supposed to be doing that, you’re married now! You’re supposed to be sitting a meter apart and knitting or something. Have some respect!” Gordon yelled, ignoring Alan who continued to make a similar noise as Armstrong after he ate some of Virgil’s pepperoni.

“Can’t you guys give us a little warning in future?” Gordon continued, picking up the pillow to smack at his brother again, avoiding Selene’s hands as she tried to defend her husband from the unwarranted attack.

“It comes to something when a man can’t even walk into his own living room without finding you two necking on the couch like teenagers at a drive in,” Scott bitched, though they could tell he didn’t really mean it.

Letting out a frustrated groan, Selene unwound her legs from around John and let him go, discreetly checking to make sure nothing was hanging out of her shirt that shouldn’t be as she sat up.

“I thought you two weren’t planning on coming back for another day?” Virgil asked, bringing up the rear, making the welcoming committee complete.

“Yeah, how was the honeymoon?" Alan grinned, dropping down between them on the couch like a human shield, much to his brother's annoyance. "We want to know everything."

***

TWO WEEKS BEFORE.

"You're really quiet," John said softly, not really wanting to break the peace of the cockpit but feeling like he had to.

His wife, it still felt strange to say that outloud, was hardly ever quiet. He'd only know it to happen on a handful of occasions and only when she was either unwell, or unhappy. Considering they were currently flying in a private plane from London to Athens to embark on the honeymoon he had painstakingly, and secretly, planned with Scott's help, she shouldn’t be unhappy at all. 

Selene had been under the impression that they wouldn't be having anything like a honeymoon. Being part of an organisation such as International Rescue left very little time for leisure activities, let alone holidays, but John had been determined that they would start their official married life the right way, and that meant spending some relaxing time alone. 

One of the things he appreciated most about her was the fact that she had taken his job in her stride, accepting the depth of his dedication, the limitations it often put on their relationship and time together and the fact that his family would be so closely involved in their lives together. 

He'd never imagined that any woman would be strong (or stupid) enough to take him on, let alone his entire family, especially not so fully as to transfer almost all of her life to their home in order to live with them and support them as she had. She never complained, well not much anyway, she never blamed him for broken date nights or failing to make it home leaving her to wake up alone, she dealt with everything with seemingly endless patience and good humour. 

So why wasn't she jumping for joy to be heading off to the country of her dreams? He knew how much Greece meant to her, it was the place where she had been conceived, where her pantheon had been worshipped and somewhere she had always wanted to go. 

He'd tucked the envelope into her suitcase sized bag and waited for her to discover it, which happened to be just before they had fallen asleep and she'd gone searching for her phone, which she hadn't used all day. 

The puzzled look on her face had morphed into one of surprised and then pure happiness, accompanied by a delighted shriek as she'd thrown herself into his arms, almost knocking him out as she planted kiss after kiss all over his face. 

Now, seeing her looking out of the window so despondently, he knew something was wrong. 

"Sorry, did you say something?" she asked, finally turning her head to look at him. 

He took one hand off the controls to drop it on her leg, squeezing her knee gently. 

"I said you were quiet. Are you alright?" 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she answered, forcing out a small smile. “It’s you I should be checking on, I’m sorry, I was a little lost in thought. How are you feeling?”

“Me?” he asked, not at all surprised that she was trying to deflect the attention from herself. He lifted his hand from her leg to gesture to the controls he was still holding in his other hand. "Obviously I'm fine, since I'm flying this plane and actually initiating a conversation. So, I'll ask again, what's wrong?" 

"I'm OK, I just said that, don't worry."

He turned his head to look at her, giving her a raised eyebrow that clearly said he didn't believe her in the slightest. 

"Do you want to try being honest with me?" 

"Not really, no."

He let out a brief snort of amusement but wasn't prepared to take no for an answer. 

"But you will anyway, because I, as your husband, am asking you to. " He slid his hand up her leg to catch her hand that was resting in her lap, lacing his fingers with hers and giving it an encouraging squeeze. 

She was silent for a few moments before she tightened her fingers around his, squeezing back. 

"It's my fault, isn't it?"

John frowned, completely lost. "What's supposed to be your fault?" 

Although they were cruising on autopilot, John had been keeping his eyes on the instruments, but now he swiveled round in his seat to face her properly, giving her his full attention. 

“Sweetheart, I have literally no idea what you are talking about.”

Selene shrugged, her eyes fixed on a particularly boring looking cloud outside the window.

“Do not make me land this plane right now, because I will do it, that or set it to fly round in a circle until either you start talking or the fuel runs out and we crash, your choice,” his arms crossed in that ‘I’m waiting’ manner of his that usually made her laugh but now just made her want to either cry or possibly smack him. 

“Is this about what Virgil said when he asked you why you were so freaked out?”

And there it was, him hitting the nail square on the head as he always did with unnerving accuracy when it came to her. It might have taken him some time to fully understand her and her emotions, but now that he did he was as highly tuned to her as he was to his brothers, perhaps even more so.

She knew she was being unfair, if he had been the one acting as she was she would be doing exactly the same as him, probably with more shouting and demanding, and wouldn’t give up until he had spilled his guts. She owed him the same. 

Taking a deep breath she began to talk, although she still couldn’t look at him, if she did she'd crack, she just knew it.

"What happened to you earlier, the whole changing into a cat thing, it's my fault."

He blinked, rather surprised by this. 

“How could any of that be your fault?”

“How could it not be?” her tone was defensive and snappy, but he didn’t take it personally.

“Why don’t you tell me how you came to that conclusion so I can commence with telling you the many reasons that you are wrong,” he suggested, receiving a tiny snort of amusement for his comment. 

“Like always, then?”

“Pretty much.” He nudged her knee with his, prompting her to start talking.

“Tanzi and Nikos said as much.”

“At no point did I hear them say anything of the sort.” He might have been a cat at the time, but if anything that meant he'd had better hearing than normal and he definitely did not recall anyone laying the blame at her door. Explanations maybe, but certainly not blaming in any way, shape or form.

“Well, not in so many words, no,” she admitted reluctantly. “But I knew what they meant. The fact is that it was my fault. I chose the ceremony, I allowed the blood vow, after I remembered about my spell, I should have realised and refused to do it.”

John didn’t say anything, he just continued to watch her, knowing that she often opened up best when allowed to give free rein to her thoughts, no matter how chaotic or illogical they were.

“You didn’t ask for any of this, you didn’t ask for a mad witch as a soul mate, hell, you didn’t even ask for a soul mate, and now, because of me and what I included in the ceremony, you’re stuck with me, and not just for now, but forever. And with an added furry bonus!” she clapped sarcastically, dropping his hand in the process. He stayed silent, but made sure to reclaim her hand, holding it firmly when she looked like she might try to pull away again.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, sounding so sad. “I’m so sorry, I know you didn’t want or ask for any of this and if I could take it back, I would.”

“I wouldn’t,” he answered, his tone low but firm, allowing no arguments.

“Seriously?” she finally turned to look at him, her eyes searching his face for any clue that he was simply humouring her or trying to make her feel better. “Are you being honest right now?”

“I’m always honest,” he reminded her. “You know I wouldn’t lie to you, not about something as important as this, birthday gifts, maybe, but not things that really matter. Just as I know you wouldn’t lie to me.”

“I’d never lie to you,” she vowed. 

“I know, so no more blaming yourself, OK?” he waited until she reluctantly nodded her acceptance before continuing. “Besides, I think you’re forgetting the part I played. If you’re going to try to start assigning blame to yourself then it’s only fair that I claim mine, too.”

“Yours? But you didn’t do anything. You had nothing to do with the ceremony or anything that contributed to this situation,” she argued, firmly upon her martyr stand and only prepared to come down if she was shot from it in a hail of righteous bullets.

His fingers brushed lighty down the side of her neck, stroking over the spot he’d bitten the night before. “In case you’ve forgotten, Nikos actually said that it was my actions that sealed it, not yours. So really, if you think about it, this is once again just a case of things playing out exactly as they were supposed to. It’s meant to be, that’s never going to be a bad thing.”

“You really wouldn’t change anything?” she asked, finally starting to calm down a little and accept that maybe it wasn’t a time to be laying blame.

“No, why would I want to?” he was genuinely puzzled. Did she somehow think that he’d want anything other than to be with her? She really was a crazy witch if that was how her mind was going to work.

“Because I’m pretty sure turning into a cat the day after your wedding wasn’t on your list of things to do, it wasn’t even in your top one hundred.”

“Well, I have to admit the cat part was a surprise, I can’t argue with that.”

“Yes, because of me.” 

“No,” he cupped her chin gently but firmly in his free hand, preventing her from turning her head away from him again. “Look at me, listen to my words. This is not on you. We both agreed to the vows and the ceremony, we both wanted one as close to a traditional handfast as possible, we both wanted it, we both chose it. And even though I didn’t know enough about it to know that it would affect me this way, if I had done I’d still have chosen to do it.”

“You would?”

“Of course. Tell me, what would the ceremony have done if I didn’t already have the shifter gene, something you have no part of and I have no choice in, I’d like to add?”

Selene opened her mouth to argue but closed it again, knowing what he was getting at. “It wouldn’t have done anything, it is just a symbol, a token gesture, blood of my blood, bone of my bone, it’s a connection and a vow, a promise.”

“Exactly. You didn’t do that, and as I said, I’d have done it anyway.”

“Even though it contributed to our accidental bonding thing?” 

“If I’d have known that a bonding was possible or even likely I’d have chosen that too,” he shrugged, letting go of her chin to brush his fingers across her cheek, smiling when she leant into the caress.

“You would?”

“Being bonded to my soul mate? Having a deeper connection with you? There’s no question that I would, in a heartbeat.” His smile turned into a full grin. “Plus, if it means we get to have sex like that again, it’s a sweet bonus.”

That did it. She burst into shocked giggles. “A bonus, huh?”

“Definitely a bonus,” he assured her, his words accompanied by a suggestive eyebrow wiggle. 

“And you don’t mind the fact that it triggered your ability to shift? You don’t mind about being a cat?”

“Well, I’d probably have chosen something a little more manly or useful, like a tiger or an owl but it is what it is. Statistically, if Virgil had the gene it was logical that at least one more of us would too, so I can’t say it was a complete shock.”

That was one thing she loved about him, for someone that people thought of as uptight and stuck in his ways, John was surprisingly laid back about things when it came to her. His brain worked on logic and facts, allowing him to see things clearer than she could. While she often got bogged down by emotions and guilt over things she hadn’t done or couldn’t change, he never allowed that.

“I think you make a perfect cat,” she mused, barely even teasing. It was true, he was a gorgeous cat and if she had had to pick an animal to describe him, cat would have been it.

“Really?” he grinned, leaning back in his seat, tugging on her hand until she unclipped her safety belt and went to him, settling on his lap. “And why’s that?”

“Well, as a kitty you are pretty gorgeous.”

“Just as a cat?” he nuzzled the tip of his nose into the little dip behind her ear.

“Obviously not just as a cat,” she assured him. 

“What are your other reasons?” Now that she had seemed to relax a bit and was starting to joke with him again he was reluctant to stop their playful teasing.

“Well, cats are loners by nature, only affectionate on their own terms and only with those they are comfortable with.”

“I resent that,” he softly kissed her neck, causing her to lose her focus just a little. “Anything else?”

“Cats are amazingly athletic, all sleek lines and graceful movements,” she continued. 

“Are you describing a furry cat or ballet Cat? Because I don’t think I fit either of those. I dispute your claims.”

“Cats are perfect,” she pressed on. “Cats are my favourite animal in the world. Cats are loveable dickheads that you can’t help but forgive when they do something wrong, which is often.”

“That’s how you describe Scott,” he reminded her. 

“And Armstrong,” she pointed out. “Either way, if I’d been asked to describe you as an animal, I’d have said cat.”

“Well,” he mock sighed, trying for a tone of resigned acceptance, “I guess if I had to be anything I’m glad it’s something you like.”

“So you don’t mind? Being able to shift I mean. Virgil said that it was surprisingly easy for you.”

“Do you mind having a husband that can turn into a cat?” he countered.

She shook her head hard.

“I’d love you even if you turned into a pink fairy armadillo,” she promised him. “You’d still be you and you’d still be perfect to me.”

“Then no, I don’t mind at all. And yes, to answer your other question, shifting was a relatively simple and painless process, which you’d have known if you’d stayed.” There was no accusation in his tone, but he felt Selene stiffen on his lap at his words. He didn’t want to make her feel bad, or push her back into her sadness or even into anger, but he wanted to make sure everything that needed to be said was dealt with before they arrived in Athens. He didn’t want any lingering doubts or negativity to mar her enjoyment of their time alone together.

“Why did you agree to leave?” he asked softly, dropping another kiss on her neck, then another, gentler and lower down on the spot where her neck met her shoulder.

Selene closed her eyes, not wanting to think about it again, but knowing she owed him an explanation. After all, she had left him at a time when he was vulnerable, left him when he needed her and she felt so very guilty about it.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, all traces of teasing and laughter gone now. “You have no idea how sorry I am. I shouldn’t have left you like that when I know you’d never leave me.”

“It’s alright,” he promised her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. “I’m not blaming you and I’m certainly not pissed off or upset with you about it, I just wanted to know why.”

“Because I was scared,” she admitted, her voice so low he could barely hear her. “So much has happened in the past few days, especially with remembering that spell, and the thought of you having to deal with more shit that was caused by me just...it was just so hard.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he reminded her. “As I told you yesterday and will continue to tell you.”

“But, the thought of seeing you in pain, seeing you trying to shift when it was my fault that you were going through it, I didn’t think I could do it. I didn’t think I’d be strong enough.”

“Don’t even think that, you’re one of the strongest, bravest people I know.”

She snorted in disbelief at that but he continued, determined to push his point.

“I saw how you were with Virgil, you didn’t hesitate to dive in and help him, you threw yourself in front of a charging wolf-”

“You’re never going to let me forget that, are you? I said I was sorry, but it was Virgil and I trusted that he wouldn’t hurt me.”

“You couldn’t have known that for sure,” he argued, as he always did. “But that’s not the point I’m making right now. The point is that I knew that no matter what happened, you would be there for me.”

“But I wasn’t,” she whispered, biting her lip in an attempt to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. “I left you.”

“No, you didn’t leave me, you let Nikos throw you out when you needed to calm down. Leaving me would have been rejecting me and never wanting to see me again. If no one else had been there to help you would have stayed and we’d have gotten through it together, as we do everything else. Just like you got Virg through it. You saved him that day and I know you’d have done the same for me if it had been needed.”

“I wanted to stay with you, but I couldn't, I was just so scared, seeing you like that, I just panicked. I hate the fact that I was grateful to Nikos for making me leave, for not giving me a choice. I don’t know what I’d have done if I’d had to talk you through that, seeing you in such pain, it would have broken me. I love Virgil, I do, but not like I love you, not anywhere near as much, you I couldn't handle. If anything ever happened to you…” she trailed off, unable to finish, unable to put her fearful thoughts into words. 

“It wouldn’t have broken you. You’d have dealt with it as you do everything else, by yelling at me, telling me I’m being stupid and then supporting me through it. Virgil and Nikos were there, experienced shifters with more knowledge than you, you did the right thing in taking me there. What happened with Virgil was an emergency situation and you dealt with it amazingly well, just as you would have dealt with this. But you didn't have an option with him, you didn't have time to do anything but act, and you acted instinctively to protect and save my brother, just as I know you would for me. I couldn't ask and wouldn't expect more."

She stayed quiet, leaning her head against his shoulder, her face nestled in his neck, knowing that he'd feel the dampness from the few tears that had escaped her control.

“I know that if we’d been alone you’d have gotten me through it. As it turned out I was fine and didn’t need much help. But I know that you would never have left my side for one second if the situation had been different.”

She kissed his jaw softly, letting him know she appreciated the sentiment. 

"I mean it," he said, bouncing his knee, jolting her on his lap a little to emphasize his point. "If it had been the other way around and you’d something madly metaphysical going on I'd have found the nearest person that knew more than me that could help, if there was no one then of course I'd do all I could, the same as you would have for me."

"You're getting better with the weird witchy shit," she mumbled against his skin. "I'm training you well."

"Yes, you are, and if you hadn't taught me so well, if you hadn't told me so much about your research and explained everything that had happened with Virgil to me, I wouldn't have been anywhere near as prepared as I was. That was the only reason I was so calm about it, because I knew what was going on and I knew that you'd never rest until I was back to myself."

"I wouldn't have given up on you," she promised him. “I never would.”

"I know," he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, hugging her close to his chest for a moment before he relaxed his hold. They sat in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the calm that talking things out always brought to them.

John let his mind wander back over the last few days, glancing down at the mark on her skin which had caused so much trouble, completing the circuit of a chain of events that separately would have been nothing but together had culminated in a something they’d had no control over. How could one little thing trigger such an event? 

Dipping his head he nipped her shoulder lovingly, right over the bite mark that still stood out on her skin where he’d inadvertently sealed their bonding the night before. The skin had healed while she’d slept as if the mark had been there for years, but it was clear to see exactly what it was, the scarring a perfect set of teeth marks that wouldn’t be coming off any time soon. Selene shivered, leaning closer without being aware she was doing it, the skin there feeling more sensitive than it had before.

Was it bad that he liked it? He’d never been one to want to mark his territory before but now he found that his eyes kept straying to it, seeing it there was a reminder of both their bond and the fact that she was his and his alone. 

“I like this,” he whispered, kissing the mark softly. “I like seeing it on you. Is that bad?”

Selene shook her head as she snuggled closer to his chest, sliding her arms around his middle. “It’s normal to like it, from what I’ve heard most shifters are quite proud of them and often try to get them in the most visible place they can. You went for the neck, which is a favourite place for many shifters, it’s harder to cover up. Not that I’d want to,” she hastened to add. “I like it being there too, I like that I have something permanent from you on me always. It’s just a shame that shifter mates don’t do the same, we get claimed and you don’t.” 

She was only half joking, it wasn’t that she didn’t trust him by any stretch of the imagination, it would have just been nice to have it as something they could share, something that couldn’t be erased.

“I didn’t know that, but then there’s a lot about this that I still don’t know or understand. Would it help if I told you that I feel claimed?”

“You do?” she said, smiling just a little.

“Very much so. If shifter mates gave marks too I’d have liked one, as you said, it would have been nice to know it was there,” he paused for a moment before continuing. "You're still going to have to help me, you know that, right?" 

Selene lifted her head to look at him. "I am? What with?" 

"With brushing up on my knowledge, that and helping me get a handle on this shifting thing, I don't want to be caught unawares again. Virgil said that he needs to shift on a fairly regular basis or his body starts pushing towards it without his say so. You know I hate to be out of control with anything, so I’d much rather embark on this new phase of my life with as much knowledge and experience as possible.”

“That seems sensible,” she agreed.

“Ideally I’d like to have at least some degree of control over it before we head home. Nikos said that staying calm and being relaxed is the best way to shift and, since we’re supposed to be on honeymoon to relax and enjoy ourselves, I think this would be an ideal time to put in some practice.”

“I agree, and I promise I’ll be there with you every step of the way.”

“I know,” he smiled, lifting her hand up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of her wrist where her pulse fluttered. “Now get back to your seat, I need to land this plane and get you to a room with a bed as soon as humanly possible.”

“That’s a plan I can get behind,” she agreed, settling back in her seat and fastening her safety belt. “Do your thing.”

“Oh, I intend to,” he promised, flicking off the autopilot and taking firm hold of the controls once more.

***

“So what did you do while you were there?” Gordon asked after Scott had demanded and received full details of their flight. It should have taken them less than twenty minutes and when they hadn’t landed for well over an hour he’d been concerned.

“We had an awesome time,” Selene gushed. “Your brother is perfect and amazing and I definitely married the best of you, sorry to burst your bubbles.”

“Obviously,” John answered. “We took a hotel for a few days-”

“It was gorgeous,” Selene interrupted. “This little place near the city center but down a quiet little street, only three rooms there and the suit that we had. It wasn’t like those posh places people usually go to, this one was so cute and really relaxed too.”

“Once we were settled in we had a wander around, just to orientate ourselves with the area , followed by a quiet dinner but decided on an early night after that. All the excitement, timezone shifts-”

“And stress,” Selene added.

“And stress,” John continued as if she’d never spoken, “had caught up with us a bit and we just wanted to sleep.”

“Sure, sleep,” Gordon drawled but was ignored by almost everyone.

“The next day we did a little shopping, John had found this little boho area that was tucked away off the main drag, with a boutique that sold the most amazing custom blended, hand rolled incense cones and beautiful ethically sourced crystals-”

“Sel, you don’t need more crystals, or incense for that matter,” Scott sighed, already having visions of piles of crystals magically meteralising on even more surfaces of the house where he would inevitably knock them flying without meaning to.

“Oh, don’t worry, I didn’t bring them home,” she assured him, “well, not many anyway. No, these were offerings.”

“Offerings?” Alan frowned.

“We were in Greece,” John pointed out, continuing to speak slowly as if they were idiots. “Sel works with the Greek pantheon more than anything else.”

“I’ve always wanted to go there, ever since my parents told me they went when they were first married. John arranged the hire of a car and had planned on a road trip tour all around the islands, with guest house bookings, so we could see the sights and stop off at all the ancient temples so I could leave an offering. It was amazing, truly perfect, some of them were so beautiful and still felt so powerful, positively crackling with energy.”

John nodded his agreement. He’d never been that sensitive to energies before but since he’d shifted the first time he’d found that he was far more intune with both the world around him and Selene herself. It wasn’t that he hadn’t believed her when she said that she could sense the emotions in him and other people, but he hadn’t truly understood it, not being able to experience it for himself. Now he could. He could feel her excitement at his plans, the wonder as she wandered around the picturesque ruins of the ancient civilization that she still worshipped, the little thrill of pleasure she felt whenever he kissed her, and other types of pleasure too.

“We visited all the sites in Athens first, we went to see a show and had the most delicious chicken gyros from a stall at the market and John somehow managed to discover Koulouri Thessalonikis one morning.”

“What’s that?” Virgil asked.

“It’s a round bread similar to a simit-” John started.

“It’s a greek bagel,” Selene jumped in. 

“You went to Greece on your honeymoon and still ate bagels?” Gordon laughed, “why did I expect anything else?”

John shrugged, completely unrepentant.

“Is that all you did?” Gordon asked. “Wander around looking at old, broken buildings, eat the same things you do at home and avoid the crowds?”

“Typical John,” Scott grinned.

“No, we visited lots of other places, we took a couple of ferry rides out to some of the smaller islands to explore and we spent some time on the beaches,” John retorted.

“Yeah, because we’re nowhere near a beach here, are we?” Scott laughed.

“Stop being mean, we had such an amazing time,” Selene continued, reaching across Alan to catch John’s hand in hers. “It was perfect, the whole thing, not too touristy, but not boring either. Enough old temples and things to do to keep me happy, enough history and culture to suit John and it gave us time alone to relax and get a handle on things.”

“Oh yeah, the whole cat thing,” Alan yelped, remembering. “Were you practicing? When do we get to see it? Can you do it whenever you want? Can you do it now?”

“I am not a performing monkey,” John sniffed. “Maybe I’ll show you in the morning.”

“Well that’s boring,” Alan huffed.

“Kinda like John and his version of an exciting honeymoon,” Gordon needled, in the mood to stir the pot. His brother teasing, which had been on pause for two weeks, obviously needed an outlet.

“Your brother is not boring and neither was our honeymoon,” Selene said, leaping in to defend both her husband and their romantic getaway. “We did lots of very exciting, not boring things.”

“Of course you did,” Virgil soothed, although it was too little too late.

“I can tell you don’t believe me,” Selene huffed, pointing an accusatory finger at Gordon, who was smirking back at her. Unfortunately the hand she waved at him was still holding in to John’s and all she succeeded in doing was almost yanking John off the couch.

“Oh gods, sorry, gorgeous,” she yelped, letting go of his hand as he struggled to right himself. After helping John back onto his seat she rounded on Gordon and now Scott who was sniggering to himself behind a well placed hand.

“Tell me something exciting you did then?” Scott challenged. “Tell us something that John did that wasn’t boring.”

“We looked around a cemetery.”

“That's a you thing, next.”

“We went to Delphi, the home of the famous Oracle.”

“Again, you thing,” Scott said, waving hand for her to continue.

“Sel, it doesn’t matter, don’t play into their hands,” John said, trying to sooth her ruffled feathers and defuse the situation before things went too far.

“John did some snowboarding,” she continued.

“I board in space, doing it on earth is nothing,” Alan yawned.

“We smashed plates at a restaurant and tried some greek dancing.”

“Nope, not good enough.”

“Everyone knows they smash plates, dancing is nothing,” Gordon said dismissively.

“Sel, stop, there’s no need,” John insisted but she was on a roll and determined to win the argument.

“John went kitty and made a ton of tourists almost pee their pants because he was walking across this really high wall at the temple of Artemis,” Selene offered. “She was linked to cats and the goddess Bastet, so when they saw him many thought it was some kind of sign.” 

“The cat thing is passably amusing but still pretty tame,” Scott said, shaking his head. “Nope, we judge it boring.”

“Try again,” Gordon challenged, crossing his arms. Selene narrowed her eyes at him.

“John got a tattoo,” Selene countered, playing her last remaining card. That had the desired effect.

“What?” Gordon spluttered.

“Seriously?” Scott said, one eyebrow lifting in disbelief.

“No way!” Alan goggled, looking at his brother like he’d just grown a second head.

Selene shot an apologetic look at John who sent her a squinty side eye glare in return. She blew him a kiss in compensation.

“Did you really get a tattoo or is she lying to try to salvage your reputation?” Scott demanded to know.

“I will neither confirm nor deny,” John replied, schooling his face to one of peaceful indifference.

“That means no,” Alan said, losing interest.

“Come on, Sel, tell us the truth, are you lying?” Gordon asked.

Selene shrugged, she’d said enough already.

“Nah, she’s lying,” Scott said, dismissing it. “There’s no way John would get a tattoo.”

“I don’t know,” Virgil mused, watching his brother carefully. “I think it’s a possibility.”

“Where is it then?” Scott asked.

“How big is it?” Gordon wanted to know.

“What is it?” Alan demanded, “I bet it’s something space themed.”

“Well, duh,” Gordon groaned, rolling his eyes. “He’s hardly likely to get something cool and greek like a hydra or pegasus, is he?”

“You will never know for sure,” John said, standing up and offering his hand to Selene. “We’re going to bed.”

“But you only just got back,” Virgil pointed out.

“Yes, but we’ve spent two weeks on the other side of the world, it’s morning for us and we have been up for a full day,” John answered.

“Plus you guys are dickheads,” Selene sniffed. “Honestly, we come home a day early because we missed you and all we get is abuse, criticism of our honeymoon and accusations of lying. It’s not on, not on at all.”

“It’s really not,”John agreed, allowing her to lead him to the door. “Maybe we should head to the flat for a few days and let them cope without us for even longer. I’m sure they don’t want you to cook that welcome home dinner you had planned.”

“Dinner?” Scott’s ears pricked up at the magic words. 

“You’re right,” Selene sighed. “They think we’re too boring to have picked up some delicious new recipes, bed it is.”

They vanished down the hall to the sound of apologetic brothers and desperate pleas to save them from Grandma’s cooking and microwave meals, all of which they ignored, ducking into their room and shutting the door.

“It’s good to be back,” Selene grinned, yanking her T-shirt off and tossing it in the general direction of the laundry basket.

“If you say so.” John picked up her shirt and dropped it in the hamper along with his own, catching the jeans she tossed his way as she continued to strip out of her travel clothes. It might have only been a short trip back to England from Athens,but they had had a full day of driving the day to return the car, picking up the plane, flying to england, returning the plane, back to their apartment and then the four hours in her car to get back to base. They were both dead on their feet and in need of some sleep.

John used the bathroom first and was waiting in bed by the time she’d removed her makeup, cleaned her teeth, brushed out her hair and a million other little things that made up her nighttime routine. 

She turned out the overhead light and slipped in beside him, smiling when he rolled closer, resting his head on her lap.

“You’re right, it is good to be home,” he admitted as they settled into their comfortable bed. Being away was all well and good, but nothing compared to your own bed, surrounded by your own things

“It is,” she agreed, her fingers sliding through his hair in a gentle caress.

“I wish you hadn’t told them about my tattoo though.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry about that, it just slipped out,” she winced. 

“It’s not like they believed you anyway,” John sighed, forgiving her as he relaxed.

“And I doubt they’ll notice it,” she shrugged, stroking the tip of one finger over the spot behind his ear where the tiny crescent moon and even tinier star, had been inked. 

She could still recall the moment he’d announced that he wanted one. They had been wandering around one of the few truly touristy spots that they had visited, having just finished lunch and stumbled across the tattoo parlor quite by accident. 

He’s paused outside the door, looking in at the window, a thoughtful look on his face. Then he’d pushed open the door.

“What are you doing?” 

“Going in, obviously,” he’d remarked, cool as a cucumber. 

“Yeah, right,” she’d laughed, tugging on his hand. “Come on, we don’t want to miss the next bus up Acropolis.”

“This won’t take long,” he’d assured her with more confidence than he felt, striding into the shop with her following along behind.

“Seriously, what are you doing?” she’d asked as he stood waiting at the desk for someone to greet them.

“Getting my own mark,” he’d explained patiently, in the same tone someone would use to tell the two times table. 

“Oh really?” she’d grinned, clearly not believing him.

“Yes,” he’d insisted, his mind made up. “You have mine, now I want something of yours.”

“And what are you planning on getting?” she’d asked, deciding to humour him.

“This,” he’d replied, tapping his thumb against her engagement ring.

“And where are you thinking of putting it?” she’d asked, finally starting to believe that he was indeed serious.

“Here,” he’d replied, pointing to the side of his head. 

He’d been practicing shifting daily and often spent an hour or so curled up on her in cat form, just enjoying the attention. She’d soon discovered that if she tickled the base of his ear in just the right way he’d go from alert to boneless in a matter of seconds, turning into a limp, purring noodle of a cat. So of course she did it every time the opportunity presented itself.

Five minutes later John was sitting stoically in the chair with his head tipped to one side, not a hint of pain showing on his face, as a small female with bright pink hair and so many facial piercings you could barely see her features, drew on his skin with a buzzing needle. 

Selene, owner of a few tattoos herself, one wrapped around each ankle, one on her left shoulder and one on each wrist, had absolutely no idea how he was sitting so calmly, not reacting at all. She always huffed and puffed her way through the whole process like she was in labour, gritting her teeth and wishing for it to be over. The end result was always great but getting there sucked.

Half an hour after they had entered they were out, John with his little tattoo and Selene with a new appreciation for her husband's impulsive side.

“They’re never going to let it go,” John sighed, bringing her back to the present.

“No,” she agreed, “but that doesn’t mean we have to make it easy for them.”

“How so?”

“Think of it this way,” Selene whispered in his ear. “This is an opportunity to annoy them as much as they annoy you.”

“Huh, you’re right,” he acknowledged, catching her train of thought and jumping firmly on board.

“Never knowing for sure unless they spot it will drive them nuts for years.”

“You’re an evil, evil woman,” he grinned, tipping his head back in offering.

“It’s why you love me,” she answered, kissing him softly.

“One of many reasons,” he assured her.

“It’s definitely good to be home.”


	4. Cupboard Of Doom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the first week of the FabFiveFeb challenge on tumblr by @gumnut

“I know it’s here somewhere,” Selene called down the hall to John who was currently sprawled on the couch wondering just why it was so important for her to find an old 3D jigsaw of the empire state building, not to mention why she would have one in the first place. “I’m gonna check the other room.”

“OK,” he called back, sighing to himself. And people said that he was the super focused one, people said he bordered on obsessive at times. Ha! They had yet to meet Selene when she suddenly got it into her head that she needed to find something right then, right there.

He’d seen her in this mood a number of times, ranging from scouring the internet for three hours to find a particular shade of eyeshadow that she just had to have, to searching an entire store room in One’s hangar because Scott was sure he'd taken her tape measure in there, John refused to even ask why the tape measure was borrowed in the first place. There were some things that a brother just didn't want or need to know.

He could hear her rummaging around in the other room and just knew that it could take forever, she wouldn't give up until she had found it. She’d said it was because it bugged her too much to allow her to settle. Knowing it was there but not being able to find it made her question both her memory and her sanity and she wasn’t prepared to do that more than necessary. 

He glanced over at the holoscreen where a movie was paused (and had been for the last fifteen minutes), they were never going to finish it in a timely fashion if she didn’t find it soon. And, while he was comfortable enough where he was, he had been more comfy when she had been beside him and his head had been pillowed just right on her perfect chest. Now he was resigned to the fact that he would have to get up as the gentlemanly thing to do would be to help her look.

Where else might she have put it? It wasn’t that large an apartment, just the two bedrooms, one being theirs and the other her office-cum-witchcraft-cum-guest room, the bathroom, the lounge he was currently in and the kitchen. He racked his brains, trying to mentally picture what the thing she was searching for might potentially look like. Would it be in a box? Already made up and dumped somewhere? Chucked loose in a bag? It was Selene, it could be on the roof for all he knew. 

He knew almost every inch of the place, having roamed around enough while she was sleeping and he was sure he'd never seen anything that might possibly be the desired item. It definitely wasn’t in the kitchen, that much he knew, she did have some kind of logic when it came to storing things, which also ruled out the bathroom. He’d just watched her rifle through the cupboards under the projector stand, the antique sideboard and down the back of the couch, so that left only one potential place. One that he had yet to ever look in at all.

He heaved himself vertical and stretched, feeling his back let out a little pop of protest. He rolled his shoulders and twisted at the waist but it did little good.. He'd have to ask her for a back massage later, hardship that it was, since it inevitably led to some kind of physical reward for her too. He grinned to himself, pleased with that idea and headed into the hall.

“Found it yet?” he called out in the vague hope that his assistance wouldn’t be required.

“Yes, I found it five minutes ago but thought I’d keep looking because I’m having such a great time.”

“Sarcastic little witch,” he grumbled under his breath as he reached for the handles. 

“I’ll check the hall cupboard for you,” he called back, raising his voice so she could hear him.

“What? No! Don’t do th-”

He opened one door and his world went dark for a second as the weight of what felt like ten tons of crap cascaded out to swallow him whole.

“Oh my gods! Babe, you OK?” The sound of running feet floated to his ears from inside his rubbish cocoon. 

“Shit! John!” Selene stopped dead at the sight of her, rather dramatic, husband lying sprawled out on the hall floor, half the contents of her junk cupboard piled on top of him. “I said no for a reason!” she scolded as she began to shove things aside without a care as to where they landed, to unearth him. “Babe, speak to me, are you alright?”

John groaned pathetically when she brushed the hair back from his face. “What the hell just happened?”

“You opened the cupboard of doom.”

“We have a cupboard of doom?” He struggled to sit up, causing another near avalanche as items rolled off his person. 

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“No! That is the sort of thing you need to warn a man about!” he exploded. “A simple, 'don’t open that cupboard without a hard hat, it’s a danger zone that even Scott wouldn’t run into' would be enough. Is that so hard to bring up in conversation?”

“I didn’t know I needed to,” she argued as she picked up a cheese grater and tried to stuff it back into the depths with little success.

“Oh yeah, that made all the difference,” he deadpanned, looking down at his still covered legs. “Where the hell did you get all this stuff and why is it in there?” He flicked a recorder with his index finger. “You don’t even play the recorder.”

“I might one day,” she huffed defensively.

“No, you won't, you have no musical skills whatsoever.”

“I could make you sing a high note if I grabbed you by the balls,” she warned him, shoving a couple of bags off his legs and offering him a hand.

He grabbed her hand, letting her haul him to his feet and brushed himself down. “Seriously, why do you have all this?”

“People gave it to me,” she shrugged. 

“And why would people just give you a bunch of random junk?” Honestly, sometimes talking to her was like listening to a language he didn’t understand, and for him that was saying something. "No one just hands people their unwanted rubbish without a good reason." Actually, scratch that, with his wife anything was possible, nothing was normal. Ever. 

“In payment,” she answered, bending down to scoop up the contents of a bag of marbles that had scattered as it hit the deck. Who even had marble these days? 

“I think you lost a few,” he nodded at the bag, receiving a scowl in return. 

She threw the bag back onto a shelf and two candlesticks rolled out.

“Dare I ask what you did to receive this lot in payment?”

“Did you have to make that sound so dodgy?”

He shrugged.

“I’m a witch.”

“I’m aware,” his arms crossed and he lifted one eyebrow in question.

“We don’t always deal in money, we tend to accept barter and trade. I do a job or a reading or something and they give me what they can afford or what they think my skills are worth in trade.”

The other eyebrow rose to join its twin as his eyes swept the mess still covering the majority of the hallway. “So this is what, your wages?”

“Essentially, yes. But only for non standard jobs. You know that most clients pay me with real money if we meet in person in my room at Madeleine's shop or for online readings, but sometimes it’s a bit more involved than simple monetary payments.”

“Is that a Jenny Sinclair cardinal?” he asked, pointing to a picture frame propped up against the side wall of the cupboard.

“The painting of the bird? No idea, I took it in trade for a house cleansing I did about four years ago.”

“And that little cube there?” he gestured to a small, metal cube suspended invisibly above a small stand that he recognised as being a Gary Sim design.

“Oh, I got that for that past life regression session I did last year, the one Scott dropped me off at in Singapore...why are you staring at me like that?”

He didn’t answer at first, just continued to dig around in the cupboard. He pulled out a dusty paperback, checked the inside cover then waved it under her nose.

“This is a first edition Gemma Noble.”

“That book about the boat?”

“The international bestseller of 2022 that only had a first print run of two hundred copies.”

“The one about the boat?”

“Yes, the one about the boat! The boat that sunk, killing the entire royal family of Koppela, leading to a revolution when the title passed down to the illegitimate son of the king’s dead sister.”

“I remembered the boat part, I didn’t read past the first three pages.” 

“The movie adaptation became the highest grossing romance of the decade.”

“Never watched it.”

“They held a fan convention!”

“Did you go?”

“No!” 

“Then why do I care if there aren't any pictures of you in royal cosplay?”

He ignored that in favour of dragging out an old fashioned radio. "Is this a bakelite-" 

"Let's just say that you're right and that it is, because I have no clue. And let's just assume that I have absolutely no clue what that is either," she said, nodding at the 'Jetsons' thermos flask in his hand. "If it's in the cupboard I had no use for it and put it there because that's my Justin cupboard."

"Justin? Who the hell is Justin?" His head was spinning. He half expected a dirty, rumpled, bearded man to come crawling out and introduce himself. He actually bent down to peer inside on the off-chance that it actually led to Narnia. 

"Just-in-case. You never know when you might need something. Basically if I think someone might like it, if I need a gift in a hurry or whatever, then I pick something out of there. Other things I give to people straight away, like that keyring pet that I gave Alan last year."

"The Tamagochi. The never taken out of its packaging, first generation digital pet from 1997? The one that he refused to open because it was worth so much money?" 

"If that's that cute little egg thing then yes."

"Yes," he sighed. "The egg thing." He sifted through a box of assorted things that had no relevance to each other. "This is a mess, this entire box, hell, the entire cupboard, is disorganised chaos."

"I'm a chaotic person, I thrive on that shit."

"I know, and usually I love you for it, but this is-" he paused, an unwelcome, and slightly horrifying, thought forming in his mind. "You have kept a record of all of these haven't you?" 

"A record?" 

"You know, your taxes, expenditure, incoming and outgoings? These technically count as earnings and you should have been keeping some kind of record."

Selene looked at him blankly, the expression on her face did not instill him with confidence. 

"You haven't got a file with all the things you've been given and what you've done with them?" 

She shook her head. 

"Not even an old notebook somewhere with scribbled notes?" he was reaching now, he was desperate. "Not even a list somewhere on the back of a cereal box?" 

She shook her head again. 

"How am I married to you?" 

"Dumb luck?" 

"You do at least have records of all your monetary incomings and outgoings, right?" 

"Do bank statements count?" 

"Partially. What about your investments? Stocks and shares?" 

"Don't have any."

"Nothing at all? No pension plan?" 

"Witches don't retire or even stop working, we just get grumpier and more naked."

She really should shut up soon, because her darling husband looked like he was about to cry. 

John took a deep breath, obviously mentally and physically pulling himself together. 

"That's it, we're sorting this out, I can't live like this, I'll never sleep knowing that this mess is just down the hall. It's not possible."

"Tad dramatic, babe."

"No!" he snapped, pointy finger of death waving in her face. "Don't you dare try to downplay this level of disorganisation. I'm a fair man, a simple man, but I cannot and will not allow my wife to continue to throw herself into a pit of ignorance of her own making with regards to her finances."

Selene shrugged. "What can I say, I just never really thought about it. I've got enough to live on, I'm comfortable and haven't had to worry about the bills for a few years, that's all I needed really."

"You have to worry, you have to pay attention to it!" 

"Why?" 

"Because…" she was watching him, waiting for some great wisdom, she was counting on him. "Because you can't, that's why," he finished lamely. 

"That cleared it up for me, thank you."

The glare he gave her could have stripped paint. 

"What are the chances of convincing you to forget about all this for a while and come back to the couch with me?" 

"Slim to none."

"I'll make it worth your while."

"You're going to properly organise this cupboard?" 

Selene snorted. "Ha! Nope. I was thinking more along the lines of taking my bra off."

"Then you leave me no choice. I can see no other option."

"We're never going to finish watching the movie, are we?" 

"I didn't think I'd ever have to do this, I don't WANT to do this, " John continued to mutter as he shoved at a sword that fell out of the cupboard, narrowly missing his foot.

"What are you doing?" she asked suspiciously as he started tapping on his phone, his expression grim. 

"I'm going to call in an expert."

***

"Here I come to save the day!" Gordon yodelled as he slammed open the apartment door, sliding dramatically into the middle of the lounge. He skidded to a halt and lifted his arms to strike a heroic pose. 

"Now that's an entrance!" Selene cheered, clapping her hands in appreciation. 

Gordon bowed low and straightened to face John, a cheeky grin on his face. 

"You called, dear brother? How may I be of assistance?" 

"We find ourselves in need of your expertise," John admitted reluctantly. 

"Me? I have expertise?" Gordon choked, unable to believe his ears. "That's a first."

"I know, I'm as shocked as you are," Selene shrugged. "I thought he'd die upon his hill of never asking you for help again after the helium mix incident and yet, here we are."

"We said we wouldn't talk about that again," John huffed. "I'm already regretting so many decisions in my life right now."

Selene glared at him but wisely kept her mouth shut, it wouldn't do to rile the beast. John very rarely got in this kind of mood but when he did it was best to duck and cover. 

“So, what did you need me for?”

“This,” John said, getting up from the couch, leading the way down the hall.

“Bro, if you have something you need my help with in the bedroom I feel I must decline.”

John treated that comment with the contempt it deserved by ignoring it completely. Coming to a halt in front of the cupboard, he grasped the handles and took a steadying breath. With a sharp yank he whipped it open, stepping expertly behind the door for protection as half the cupboard's contents rained down onto the floor.

“What are yo...shitting hell!” Gordon yelped, diving out of the way just in time before he was swept along in the tidal wave of items.

“I’m not picking that all up again!” Selene yelled at them, escaping to the sanctity of the kitchen to make coffee. 

“What the hell is all this stuff?” Gordon asked, his tone filled with awe.

“Apparently it’s the things that people give her in lieu of payment that she has no idea what to do with.”

“There’s a lot in there," Gordon said, stating the obvious, his eyes darting here and there as he tried to take in the sheer size of the crap mountain that had just spilled forth like an avalanche. 

"I know," John sighed, half-heartedly nudging a bag aside with his foot, slightly disturbed to hear it clunk. What the everloving hell did she have in there? 

Gordon bent down to sift through a smaller pile that had managed to separate itself from the rest, unearthing a rubix club and a couple of fidget spinners.

“This is so cool!”

“Excuse me? What?”

“This is like a treasure trove! Oh my God I’ve wanted one of these forever,” he shook the cube in John’s face and then dived back into the pile, making a grab at something he’d spotted, unearthing it. “This is a black light Dr Strange Funko Pop! These things are hella rare and worth a fortune.”

“Why is it’s head so big?”

Gordon stared at John like he’d just asked why the earth looked round from his bedroom window.

“You don’t even realise what you have here, do you?”

“I know that she’s got a painting that’s worth far too much to have it stuffed in a cupboard and ignored, along with a first edition or two.”

“Screw that boring stuff, she’s got an unopened Animal Crossing game cartridge in there, it’s like ten christmasses have come at once! This is amazing.”

“And that, dear brother, is why I called you,” John grinned, patting Gordon on the shoulder. “You two are going to sort this out while I attempt to make some kind of sense out of her bookkeeping, of which I believe there is none.”

“So, in other words you’re starting her an investment portfolio like you did for my twelfth birthday and taking over the balancing of her checking accounts?”

“Pretty much,” John shrugged. 

“While I have to wade through a pile of junk and attempt to put it into some kind of order?”

“Essentially, yes. Oh, and try to get her to help you, she needs to take some kind of responsibility for her finances even if it is by sorting things into keep, sell or donate piles.”

Gordon paused, caught between the brotherly urge to be a pain in the ass and refuse to help and his own desire to sift through the Aladdin's cupboard of undiscovered treasures that lay before him, spread out across the hall floor like an offering to the gods. 

Eventually his desire to dumpster dive won out.

“You got it,” he followed his promise up with a salute that he felt made him seem very trustworthy and capable. "You just leave it all to me, bro. You go call down your little tin can."

***

“What the hell?”John yelled, coming into the lounge. “It’s worse than when you started!”

Selene and Gordon looked up from the pile they were sifting through and glanced around the room. Three huge wicker baskets took up half the sofa, onto which Gordon had stuck helpful signs of ‘keep’, ‘donate’ and ‘sell’ but, they had to admit, there was very little in them. 

Gordon had suggested they drag out everything and spread it out in order to see exactly what they had and to make it easier to put things back in the cupboard when the time came. Unfortunately he’d slightly underestimated the amount of stuff that Selene had managed to cram in there through sheer determination and possibly a little magic. The result was a lounge floor that couldn't even be seen and Selene and Gordon sitting amongst the sea of stuff like two little islands. How John wished they had been left undiscovered.

“It’s been three hours!” They both stared at him blankly, Gordon with a recently discovered Baby Yoda sitting in his lap and Selene holding what appeared to be some kind of metal torture device that might possibly be a corkscrew, which was now looking rather appealing as he debated using it to gouge his eyes out.

He waved a handful of papers in their general direction. “I thought you’d be somewhere near done by now. I need some input with all of this!” he shook the papers for emphasis. “Did you know that you have seven bank accounts? SEVEN!”

“I kept forgetting them and-”

“No! There is no and! There is no such thing as an and when it comes to SEVEN FUCKING BANK ACCOUNTS!”

“One promised me the best interest rates in the galaxy and another promised me a toaster,” she protested. “Wait, I think I’ve got that around here somewhere…”

The noise John made was somewhat reminiscent of a pissed off Pterodactyl, all frustration and the desire to murder.

Selene scrambled to her feet, treading on a dog toy that let out a protesting wheeze, and mountaineered over a bag of golf clubs to reach his side.

“Babe, you good?” she cupped his face, turning it so she could look in his eyes. He stared blankly back at her. “Calm down, sweetie, it’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Not as bad?” he snapped in complete disbelief. “Not as bad? You’re right, it’s not as bad as it looks, it’s worse, because I just spotted some more down the side of the couch!”

“That’s the stuff Gordon wants,” she explained patiently. “Look, why don’t I pop out and get us something nice for dinner, like chinese food, you like that, that’ll be good, right? Then we can have a break and finish up after.”

He had no choice but to nod, although she swore she heard him muttering under his breath about which bank account she’d be using to pay for it, as she dragged her coat on.

John sank down on the arm of the couch, the one clear spot in the room, with a defeated sigh.

“It’s really not as bad as it looks,” Gordon assured him. “She’s got some awesome pieces that I’m taking pictures of to put online as we organise them, she’s got another box full of stuff to donate as well as that basket, the box is in the kitchen by the way. And some of the keep stuff is already in the cupboard, that’s things she's earmarked for birthdays and potential gifts or things that might actually have a use.”

John grunted a sound that might have been approval or might have been his will to live escaping.

“One thing is bugging me though,” Gordon continued, setting the Baby Yoda aside gently and picking up an old Nintendo Switch to photograph.

“And that is?” John tentatively reached into one of the small mounds on the couch beside him and extracted a lace scarf made of some kind of delicate silk that he just knew his Grandmother would love. He rubbed the soft material between his fingers, drawn by the intricate patterns that someone had obviously worked by hand.

“How did you not know about any of this? You know everything, you snoop everywhere, you just have to be involved.”

“I’m insulted. I do not snoop.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Only when I have to,” John admitted with an indignant sniff.

“So…?”

John shrugged. “I hadn’t had a need to open the cupboard, I thought it was just a cleaning closet. As for the bank accounts, we just never talk about money. At first it seemed rude-”

Gordon snorted, interrupting him. “When has asking what might be a rude question ever stopped you?”

John scowled at him but answered anyway. “Maybe since we have more than enough money and Dad was constantly drumming it into us that we should watch out for gold diggers and people who would only show an interest in us for financial gain?”

“But that’s our money, not hers.”

“Well, she never asked about ours, which was refreshing really. Even Scott could tell she didn’t just see me as a walking wallet, which was apparently very surprising. I’m still not sure if I should be insulted by that, he was either insinuating that no one would be interested in me or that I couldn’t be trusted to pick a woman on my own.”

“Or he was speaking from experience.”

“Maybe that too,” John allowed. “But it just never came up, it was never an issue. She never tapped me up for money, I never needed to ask her about it, I bought this place without asking her-”

“She’s still pissed about that, by the way.”

“Not important right now,” John continued smoothly, waving it aside. “The point is that it’s never been a subject we’ve talked about, her finances are her own.”

“So you’re getting involved now, why?”

“Because she obviously can’t be trusted to take care of herself, it’s a husband’s job to look after his wife and she apparently needs babysitting more than Alan.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Gordon scoffed, refusing to look at the piles of things that remained.

“EOS found those bank accounts, though apparently she only uses three of them with any regularity, one dates back to when she was seventeen and only has twelve pounds in it. She also appears to have nothing in the way of incoming and outgoing logs, although I traced back through her emails and found what might be considered receipts if I squint hard enough. One was just a witches hat emoji, a smiley face, a dollar sign and a thumbs up.”

Gordon burst out laughing, mostly from the look of utter despair and the completely done-with-your-shit tone that his brother had.

“Did you really expect anything else?” he asked when he finally calmed down.

John opened his mouth to argue but slowly shut it again. Honestly, he shouldn't have been in any way surprised. His wife was nothing if not unique and he had been well aware of her chaotic nature when he married her, he could hardly expect her to change now.

“Didn’t think so,” Gordon grinned. “She’s just being her, and you know you wouldn’t have her any other way.”

“I know,” John admitted with a sigh. “It’s just frustrating and rather anxiety inducing to see all this,” he swept a hand out, gesturing to the room at large.

“I get that,” Gordon nodded. “You say that about me all the time.”

“I could live without you though.”

“Oh! I’m insulted! That actually hurt!” Gordon picked up the Baby Yoda and lobbed it at his grinning brother’s head.

“I’m back!” Selene called as she bounced through the door, bringing with her the enticing scent of food and the clanking of beer bottles.

“Yes, thank you! I'm starving.” Gordon scrambled to his feet to relieve her of the bottles while John went to fetch plates.

“There’s four boxes in the kitchen!” John yelled at Gordon when he tripped over one. “You said there was one, you lied!”

“No, I said there was a box of things to donate, the rest aren't donations so they didn’t count,” Gordon argued, unearthing the corkscrew Selene had found and using the attached bottle opener to pop a beer open.

“So where are the rest going?” John demanded to know.

“Let’s not focus on that for now,” Selene soothed, “the food’s getting cold.”

***

The beer and food went a long way towards calming John’s mood and easing the way towards getting the rest of the job done in a somewhat timely manner, that is to say three am rather than the next afternoon.

John was more ruthless than Gordon and Selene were. Selene saw the things as full of possibilities, Gordon saw it as full of cool stuff they could make some money on, John saw it as a complete mess that he wanted out of his nicely ordered life ASAP. 

“What about this?” John held up an unidentified object that looked like it might have been a lemon squeezer but Selene had threatened to use as a ball breaker. 

“I don’t know, it might be usefu-” 

“When did you last squeeze a lemon?”

“Erm…”

“You don’t because we have that juicer that has the squeezer inbuilt. Gordon, is there a market for these?”

“I’ve not seen any-”

“It’s gone,” John said decisively, tossing it into another box, this one marked for shipping to a vintage store to sell for them.

“You’re mean and bossy when you’re cleaning,” Selene pouted.

“You like when I’m bossy,” he pointed out, holding up a half burnt christmas candle, not waiting for an answer before he tossed it in the recycling box.

“There is a time and a place for your dominating side and this is not it.”

“Thank God,” Gordon shuddered, taking another picture and putting the item in the selling box.

“We will get this done,” John told her firmly, raising an eyebrow in warning when she looked like she might dare try to argue. Gordon wisely kept his mouth shut and continued his scavenging. “We are getting this done and then, tomorrow, you and I are going to sit down and sort out your finances once and for all.”

“Urgh, do we have to?”

“Yes! It needs to be done. We’re married now, that means we need to know what we have in the way of resources and it needs to be properly recorded, I mean, have you ever even paid tax?”

“Yes,” she drawled in a tone that sounded more like a stroppy teenager that had been asked if she’d really done her homework, all ‘of course I have, what do you take me for?’.

“How much? What band? Quarterly, or yearly?”

“I don’t know!” she wailed, tossing a balled up T-shirt that was apparently designer, into the sell box like it was basketball. “I just pay what they tell me to, I think it’s a standard rate or something, and like, doesn’t everything I buy have tax on it already? Surely that’s enough tax? Am I expected to pay tax on everything? Is that how the world works?”

“Yes!”

“Well it sucks,” she sniffed. “I get taxed to earn, I get taxed to spend, this, this is why witches barter and trade! No bastard gouvernements will take my candle sticks!”

Gordon looked from John to Selene then back again, smothering his laughter behind the picture he was holding. 

“I mean, I’m supposed to do the work, collect the cash, don’t pass go, hand over my taxes and keep a record of it? Crazy I tell you. Crazy. Like, don’t they have an app for that?”

“I love you-”

“I sense a but coming.”

“But you drive me crazy.”

“Welcome to the club, mate. So, just out of curiosity, do they have an app for that? Because I could totally use one.”

“Yes, they do. But I’ll make you one that’s more suited to your needs.”

“By suited I hope you mean more simple and able to do it in two seconds flat, because that’s about all I’m prepared to promise,” she warned him.

John thought about it for a second, then nodded. “I’ll take it.”

"I'm keeping this," Gordon announced, holding up the painting that depicted a woman jumping a horse over a hedge. 

"Erm…OK," Selene agreed easily, glancing at John who shrugged in answer. He didn't have a clue either. 

"Not that I mind you having it, obviously," Selene pushed, "but can I ask why? It doesn't really seem like your type of thing."

"It reminds me of an old friend, that's all," Gordon grinned, putting it aside carefully into his keep box. 

By the time they had finished their third pot of coffee they had cleared the room of its assorted oddities and curiosities that were scattered around, sorting it into boxes that consisted of sell online, ship to a shop, donate, keep, keep for gifts and claimed by Gordon. The items in the keep and keep for gifts had been neatly arranged in the cupboard by John who was now a lot calmer after instilling some order into the chaos that had become his Sunday. 

Gordon had scavenged everything he wanted and proudly labelled his box and was now snoring in the spare room, having definitely earned the rest and Selene was yawning her face inside out.

“Please can we go to bed,” she whined as John opened and closed the cupboard door once more, testing yet again that he could open it without endangering life and limb.

“Yes,” he finally agreed, holding out his hand.

“Thank you,” she sighed in relief, dropping her hand into his. She used her grip on his hand to tug him closer, tipping her head back, pursing her lips in offering. 

“Is this you trying to butter me up?” John asked, sliding his arms around her waist.

“Maybe,” she admitted. “Is it working?”

“Maybe,” he conceded, dipping his head to capture her lips in a soft kiss.

“So, am I forgiven now?”

“Possibly,” he allowed, kissing her again. “I’ll let you know after I get some sleep.”

“I’ll take it,” she agreed, grinning sweetly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, but you’re not getting out of doing your accounts tomorrow.”

“Dammit!”


	5. The Curious Case of Al Mungo

“Where is he?” she fretted, tearing at yet another flower from the hastily purchased supermarket bouquet she held, the only nod towards the occasion that she had managed to find.

“If he doesn’t arrive soon I’m afraid we’ll have to move on, I have another couple waiting outside and we’re over by fifteen minutes as it is.”

“He’ll come,” she insisted firmly. “He wouldn’t let me down like this.”

“Maybe something’s happened to him,” her best friend Sara suggested gently.

“Are you saying he’s had an accident or something? Like he might be hurt?”

“No, no I’m sure it’s nothing like that,” Sara hurried to reassure her.

“Well what do you mean then?” her voice had taken on a don’t mess me around tone.

“Well, just that, well...you know Al, you know what he’s like…” her friend's eyes slid sideways towards the registrar that stood waiting, impatiently checking his watch for the fourth time. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I’m sure I don’t know,” she sniffed indignantly. “Are you trying to imply something?”

Ben, Sara’s boyfriend and the second witness stepped in. “What she means, is that Al isn’t known for always following the right path, as you well know.”

“Look at why we’re here,” Sara pushed.

“We’re here because he is being unfairly punished and we wished to be married in case he has to go away.”

“But is he really?” Ben snorted.

“Is he really what?”

“Being unfairly punished? It seems to me that he was in sound mind when he made those decisions, he knew exactly what he was doing when he took on the jobs.”

“He promised me he was going straight,” she shredded the flower between her fingers, not wanting to look at her friends. They would be looking at her with those same pitying expressions that she’d seen time and time again, judging her as a naive fool.

“I’m not saying he’s not had every intention of doing just that,” Sara soothed, “but you have to admit, that he’s not the most trustworthy of people, is he now?”

“He is with me,” she said, her voice firm. “He’s never lied to me.”

“Then where is he?” Ben pushed. “He’s not here, is he? That has to tell you something.”

“I’m sure he’s got a very good reason for it,” the Registrar said, butting into their conversation. “But I’m afraid that I cannot give you any more time. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to leave.”

Nodding sadly, resigned now, she allowed her friends to lead her from the small room and out into the hallway where another young couple stood ready to go in, all smiles since they were actually together.

“Show offs,” she muttered under her breath as she checked her phone for what felt like the hundredth time. Still no calls or texts, still no answer from the man she was supposed to be marrying.

“Whatever the reason, he’s let you down again, and not for the first time,” Sara said as kindly as possible.

Sara was right, this wasn’t the first time that Al had said he’d do something or be somewhere and had let her down on it and she had always forgiven him. But this, this was unforgivable, this was something she couldn’t come back from.

“You owe to yourself to find a decent man,” Ben said. “You’re a pretty lass, you shouldn’t have to settle for the likes of him. He don’t know he’s born, that one, doesn’t know what he’s got here and what he’s letting down.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, sucking in a deep, calming breath, gathering her strength. “You’re right, you both are. I deserve b etter. He’s always putting others before me and letting me down, well no more. This was his last chance and he’s blown it.” Striding across the hall she tossed the half decimated bunch of flowers into the trash can and snapped a picture, texting it to him.

“Well done,” Sara praised, hugging her friend tightly. “How about we go get a drink, yeah? Our treat.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, brushing away the stray tear that had dared escape. She didn’t want to cry over him, not again, she’d shed far too many tears over him already. “A drink sounds good, I could sure do with one.”

***

“Can I have another glass of Champagne, please young man?” Celia asked, sitting down heavily on one of the stools that had been arranged in front of the bar.

“Sure thing, love,” Avery grinned, reaching behind him the open bottle only to find it whipped away at the last second.

“H'I'll see to this, thank you.”

“Hey, you do you, dude, you do you,” Avery said, backing away to make room. “Far be it for me to keep the attention of all the gorgeous ladies here tonight.”

“Enough of your cheek, young man. Be h’off with you,” he shooed Avery away with a sweep of his hand. Avery retreated with good grace, tossing a wink at Celia as he left.

“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“As are you, I wasn’t sure it was you at first.”

“You look well, CeCe,” Parker smiled. The smile was the same as it had always been, his skin still crinkled just so at the corners of eyes the same twinkling blue as she remembered, although they were set in a face that had definitely suffered some weathering over the years, not that she could talk.

“As do you.”

“Ahh, gerroff with yer,” he grumbled good naturedly, brushing her compliment aside like it was an annoying fly as he poured her the requested champagne.

“So, you’re going straight now?”

“Fer a number h'of years, yes.”

“Good to know that something or someone succeeded in sorting you out,” Celia sniffed, sipping her drink.

“Had to be done,” he agreed, wiping down the counter where he’d spilt precisely two drops. “M’lady’s father took h'a chance on me an' I’ve yet to make him regret the decision.”

“Good. It seems you’ve well and truly landed on your feet,” Celia said, toying with the stem of her glass, not wanting to look at him too closely.

“Can I just say, h'again, 'ow very sorry I was to hear about your 'usband. He was a good man.”

“Again? When did you-”

“I was at the funeral with M’lady,” he admitted. “I wondered if perhaps you didn’t recognise me h'at that moment in time.”

“I don’t remember much about it to be honest, it all came as such a shock. Rufus was, as you say, a good man, a devoted husband and father.”

Parker could hear the warning in her tone, daring him to say anything negative about her late husband. Not that he would have, even if he wanted to. Rufus had done what he couldn’t, he’d looked after his CeCe, had been a strong, supportive and reliable partner to her and fathered her children. Everything that he had hoped she would be lucky enough to find. He just hadn’t expected it to be with his childhood best friend.

Parker and Rufus had grown apart after school and, while they tried to keep in touch, had both drifted into different crowds. Rufus signing up to an apprenticeship with a local firm and Parker into a gang where the skills taught to him by his father could be put to good use.

Celia wasn’t looking at him, her eyes having strayed to her daughter who was happily laughing at something Scott had said to her, no doubt something highly inappropriate for the occasion.

He didn’t want to voice the thoughts in his head but, seeing her again, seeing her daughter all grown up and marrying one of the boys that he had cared about for far longer than he would ever admit, he was struck by visions of what might have been.

“When you didn’t h'acknowledge me at the funeral,” he started, his words quiet but serious enough for her to turn back to face him, “H'I thought perhaps you still ‘ated me, on account of what I did.”

“What you did? You mean getting caught while on bail and going to jail instead of being there at the registry office to marry me as you had promised? Why ever would I still be angry about that?” Celia huffed, taking another big gulp of champagne.

Parker nodded reluctantly. “Yes, that’ll be the one.”

“Yes, I hated you,” she told him bluntly. “You humiliated me, left me standing there waiting for you. You made a choice, deciding that your friends and that job were more important than me. But, you know me, I’m not one to hold a grudge,” Parker snorted softly under his breath but she ignored it, “not for that long, anyway. I truly didn’t see you that day, the whole day was a bit of a blur, Selene, Jeff and Sally did most of the work, I’m afraid I wasn’t much use.”

“H'I’m sure they were very 'appy to help,” he said, seeking to reassure her.

“Oh, I’m sure they were,” she agreed, sipping her drink again, a far away look in her eyes as she glanced down at the hand holding the glass, seeing her wedding ring sparkling on her finger. “I can’t believe it’s been ten months already.”

“Doesn’t seem possible,” Parker agreed. “'ow have you been coping, h'if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Some days are better than others,” she admitted softly. “It feels both so fresh but also so long ago, all at the same time. On days like these I really miss him, it’s a very lonely life sometimes, especially when your family no longer needs you.” She turned back to him. “What about you? Did you ever marry? Have a family?”

Parker shook his head. “Can’t say I did, no one h'ever quite matched up with me. I was jus’ grateful to be a part of M’lady’s life as I have been.”

“I guess family comes in all shapes and sizes,” Celia mused, glancing again at her daughter who was holding the hand of a miserable looking John while Aunt Bonnie shouted directly in his face. Celia was unsure if the reason for it was due to alcohol consumption or inherited deafness.

“That it does,” Parker agreed. “It can be a lonely life sometimes, though.”

“It can indeed.”

“Maybe, if you’re h'obliging, we might take a turn around the dance floor later? Fer old times sake?”

Celia studied his face carefully, looking for any trace of insincerity there, but found none.

“Maybe,” she agreed, swallowing the last of her champagne, the small smile that formed hidden behind her glass.

“Jus’ maybe? Anythin’ h’I can do to tempt you?”

Celia paused to think about her answer, unused to such flirtations.

“I...I don’t-”

“What the hell did you just say?”

The sound of shouting bellowed out over the music from the direction of the dancefloor followed by the unmistakable sound of a fist hitting flesh.

“Gordon!”

“He started it!”

“Oh ‘eck,” Parker yelped, already moving. “I’ll be right back, I jus’ need to ‘elp M’Lady with her young man.”

Celia watched as Parker sprinted, with surprising speed and agility, towards the dancefloor where her something-something-removed nephew stood clutching a nose that was gushing blood, screaming at the top of his lungs at Gordon who looked like he was winding up to clock him again. Penelope fluttered around them, alternating between each man as she apparently berated them.

A quick glance showed that neither Selene or John were in the vicinity to witness the scuffle so that was where Celia’s interest ended, as long as it wasn’t ruining her daughters day she didn’t care.

Picking up her glass again she rolled her eyes towards the heavens.

“See, Rufus, I told you Troy coming along would be trouble.” She took a large sip draining the glass. “Young man,” she called to Avery who had been loitering nearby. “Be a dear and top me up? I feel like I’ll be needing it.”

***

"This is so fancy, I feel quite like a queen," Celia cooed as he opened the big car door and, taking a gentle hold of her hand, helped her to slide into the back seat. “Thank you, Jeeves.”

“It’s Parker, madame,” he smiled with a nod of his head.

“Parker then,” she acknowledged, settling into the plush leather seats with a contented sigh. “Oh yes, I could get used to this.”

Parker closed the door and slipped easily into his own seat and pressed the button to start the car. The engine purred into life, rumbling strongly under the hood as he eased it carefully out of the space outside her little house and onto the open road.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” Celia mused aloud.

“Used to what, h'exactly?”

"That accent you seem to have adopted," she sat back in the seat and crossed her arms. "When I agreed to this little outing, it was under the impression that I would be accompanied by Al Parker from Spitalfields, not Aloysius Parker, manservant to a lady. I have no interest in spending the evening with someone I do not know."

Parker grinned as he listened, her tone was firm, allowing for no arguments and he knew exactly where her daughter had learnt it. He knew full well that she would make him stop the car and would get out to begin walking home if she didn't get her own way.

"Alright," he agreed, clearing his throat. "I'll try me best." He hadn't dropped the accent that he had perfected as part of his cover for so long that he no longer thought of it as fake. He didn't have to think about it, he didn't have to pause briefly before he spoke, it came out easily, it felt natural, it was normal for him. Now he was actively paying attention to it, modulating his speech patterns before he spoke aloud.

"That's better," she nodded, pleased with herself. "Now, what do you have planned for us tonight?"

“The Royal Opera House, M’lady’s friend sent her tickets to the opening night of her new ballet, but M’lady already had a prior engagement.”

“So we get to make use of them?”

“Indeed we do.”

“Oh, how wonderful, I can’t wait. I’ve never been to a ballet before,” Celia sighed happily, making Parker smile. It was nice to see. He was well aware that he had been personally responsible for taking that smile away from her in the past and, although he had nothing to do with her recent heartbreak, he couldn’t help but feel a little spurt of pride that he had managed to give her back a little of her happiness, even if it was for a brief time.

***

“Why are you frowning?” Scott asked Selene as she stabbed the end call button on her phone for the third time and tossed it aside.

“Mum’s not answering.”

“I’m sure there’s a good reason.”

“There shouldn’t be,” she huffed. “She was the one that insisted, and by insisted I mean practically bullied me into agreeing to once weekly calls so, and I quote, I can find out first hand what’s going on in my own daughter’s life rather than reading it online. Every Wednesday, we either talk or meet up for a coffee, and if something comes up we always rearrange. It’s seven in the evening UK time, she should be at home, waiting for my call like always.”

“She has a life too, maybe she’s just out with friends,” Scott suggested.

“No, her life is not that interesting. Something might have happened to her,” Selene fretted.

“Sel, calm down, nothing’s going to just happen to her.”

“It did to my dad,” Selene snapped and he shut up, not wanting to make her feel worse. She was right, her dad had gone to bed perfectly fine and not woken up again. It was perfectly understandable that she’d worry after that, especially given the kind of life that they led, danger and unpredictability was the norm.

"It was Dad's anniversary three weeks ago, what if she's depressed? What if she's done something stupid?"

"She won't have done anything, Sel," Scott assured her.

“Have you tried calling Adam?” Virgil suggested, ever the practical one when John wasn’t around to do it.

“No!” she gasped, grabbing her phone again. “See, that, that was helpful, thank you.”

“Welcome,” Virgil grinned, happy to have been of service.

“That was going to be my next suggestion,” Scott huffed but Selene ignored him in favour of calling her brother.

“Come on, answer the damn phone,” she muttered under her breath as the sound of ringing accompanied the pulsing of the little holographic phone icon. The phone cut out and she tried again. And again. Her brother answered on the fourth attempt, blinking up at her with slightly unfocused eyes.

“Hey, sis,” he greeted in that sleepy way of his.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Nah, dude, just zenning, you know?”

“Gotcha. Anyway, where’s Mum, I tried calling for our weekly chat when she didn’t call first and she’s not answering. Is everything OK?”

“Yeah, she’s out, man.”

“Out?” Scott and Virgil sniggered at her disbelieving tone. “Out where?”

“Date.”

“A date?” Selene screeched like an electrocuted pterodactyl.

“Date,” he confirmed.

“Where? And with whom? Who said she could go out dating?”

“I think she’s old enough to date now, Sel,” Scott tried but zipped his lip when she shot a death glare his way.

Adam’s holographic form shrugged, his hair flowing around his shoulders with the movement. Since returning from his retreat he’d let his shaved hair grow out and it had quickly formed something akin to a lion's mane around his face, the colour the same dirty blonde as her natural colour, and he’d teamed it with a goatee beard and a carefully curled mustache.

“So you don’t know anything?”

“I know many things, sis, knowledge is subjective.”

"But do you know anything about this date of hers?"

"Alas, in that I am woefully ignorant."

“Not even who it is? Is it someone we know?”

“Can’t say it is,” he pondered, looking off into the distance like the wall would provide all the answers in the universe. Selene closed her eyes briefly, trying to stay calm.

“Did you even recognise him? Have you seen him before?”

“He looked kind of familiar, but I can’t place him…”

“Do you know where they went?”

“Out.”

“Yeah, I get that, but where out, it’s a big world out there.”

“It’s just the earth, man, naming and claiming places is just a human construct made up by the people that want to own things that aren’t theirs to start with.”

“Adam…”

“You can’t own a piece of nature, man, it’s just not right.”

“Ad’s, I’m standing on a privately owned Island…”

“Capitalism, sis, capitalism.”

“Back to the real problem here,” Selene insisted. “Where’s our mother?”

“Out.”

“I know she’s out!” Selene wailed, dropping her head into her hands for a second before she speared Scott with a look, daring him to laugh and mouthed her orders ‘ get your brother NOW’.

“Did she say anything to you about it?” Selene tried again, turning back to her cheerfully humming brother.

“I think she said something about getting reacquainted with an old friend, but I wasn’t really listening.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why weren’t you listening? That might have been important.”

“I was eavesdropping on a conversation between wood pigeons, they are surprisingly angry birds.”

“You were…” Selene took a deep breath. “What did she say about this old friend? Did she give you a name? Where did they meet?”

“Aren’t we all just friends in some form or another? Like, can’t we all just get along and love each other?”

“Names, boy! I need names! Names are good!”

“I think she called him Al, maybe Alfred, like he was working for the man.”

“What man? There’s another man now?” She cast her eyes at Virgil who was doing a better job of holding in his laughter. Scott, as usual, was a lost cause and she ignored him, but not before throwing a pillow at him. Her brother tutted at her from her phone screen.

“Sis, you’re too tense, violence never solves anything. Calm is cool.”

“Our mother is out in the big, wide world with gods knows who, possibly even a murder or someone that will take advantage of her and you’re telling me to be calm?”

“Chilllllllll,” he drawled, waving his arms in what he must have thought was an ethereal, calming manner but looked more like he was trying to swat a fly.

“Adam, what was his name?”

“Why must we use the name that was given to us at birth? Our parents didn’t know us, they give you a name that will stick with you for life and we have no say over it, it’s yet another way the man makes us conform. What if he didn’t like that name? What if that’s not his true spiritual name? He looked like a Klaus, or a Mungo.”

“Who the fuck is Mungo?”

“Date dude.”

“His name is Mungo? You just told me it was Al.”

“Al Mungo, great name if you ask me, he seems like a good guy.”

“You said you didn’t know him!”

“But with a name like that I trust him.”

“Can you tell me anything about him that’s useful?” Selene tried. “Did he pick her up or did she meet him somewhere?”

“Picked her up.”

“Did you get a number plate? A description of the car?”

“It was big.”

“What make? What colour?”

“It was big.”

“And?”

“Man only buys a car like that when he’s compensating for something or has too much money.”

“So it was big and showy? That’s all you got?”

“Yep. It was all I needed to know.”

“That’s helpful, thanks.”

Adam ignored the sarcasm, or more likely didn’t even register it. “Welcome, great chatting, sis, give my love to Jake.”

“It’s Joh- and he’s gone.”

“That was helpful,” Scott wheezed, trying hard not to start laughing again now that he was finally able to catch his breath.

“And you were not.”

“I called John, that was helpful,” Virgil offered, receiving a grateful smile in return.

“You guys have to help me, we need to find out where my mum is, then hatch a plan to rescue her if need be.”

“I doubt very much there will be much need for a rescue,“ Virgil tried to soothe but got nowhere fast.

“We don’t know that! Anything could have happened to her.”

“Happened to who?”

“Oh, thank the gods!”

John, who was honestly thinking about starting to knock or ask for a heads up before entering the lounge, found his arms suddenly full of babbling witch.

“Mum’s not answering her phone and when I finally got hold of Adam he told me that she’d gone off with some guy named Al Mungo and now we don’t know where she is. She could be anywhere, she could be lying in a ditch and breathing her last while some dodgy dude does unthinkable things to her unmentionables AND I'M NOT COPING WITH THIS SITUATION!”

“Wait...hold on one second, give me a moment to process this,” John begged, hugging her to his chest in an effort to shut her up for two seconds to allow his brain to catch up. His usually very capable, some might even say genius level, brain spluttered to a halt, unable to move past one thing. “Who the hell is Al Mungo?”

“I don’t know! But he’s kidnapped my mother and she could have been sold into slavery by now!”

John gently untangled her arms from around his waist and maneuvered her to sit back down on the couch.

“Sweetheart, I say this with the utmost love and respect, but if someone had bought your mother they would have taken her back for a refund.”

Scott and Virgil sucked in a shocked breath, ducking in preparation for the incoming explosion, Scott even going so far as to hide behind the cushion Selene had thrown at him.

“Accurate,” Selene sighed, seeming to visibly deflate, if only a little.

“Hey, how come he gets away with saying things like that?” Scott accused.

“Because she loves me and I’m nice to her.”

“So am I, and she loves me too, but I get things thrown at me when I say anything.”

“Yeah, but I’m nicer to her in ways that you aren’t,” John grinned.

“TMI, bro, TMI,” Scott groaned, making a face.

“Plus I spoke the truth. It’s the same reason we never worried about the Hood kidnapping Grandma,” John shrugged.

“I heard that, young man!” Grandma’s voice floated from the kitchen.

John visibility winced. “Sorry, Grandma,” he called back. “She’s never going to forget that, is she?”

“Not a hope in hell,” Virgil laughed, glad that he’d wisely kept out of it.

“Can we get back to the problem of my mother, please?”

“Sorry, love,” John sat down beside her, allowing her to shift closer so he could put his arm around her. “Let me see if I’ve got this right, your mother didn’t answer when you called and Adam said she was kidnapped by someone?”

“Al Mungo,” Scott supplied.

“Was the spanish accent and flamenco hands necessary?” Selene scowled.

“Very necessary.”

“What leads you to believe she was kidnapped?” John asked patiently, trying to get to the bottom of the crazy conversation he had been summoned to.

“Adam said that Ceilia has gone on a date but he didn’t recognise who she went with or where she went,” Virgil explained. John nodded, that made more sense than what his wife had ranted at him.

“Where does Al Mungo come into it?”

“Adam said that Ceilia said that was his name.”

“Right,” John drawled, wondering just what he’d done to deserve this on an ordinary wednesday. How was he supposed to tackle this in a way that wouldn’t set Selene off again? “With the greatest of respect,” he started, “Adam isn’t always the most observant of people, is there a chance he might have been mistaken?”

“He did say that he was only half listening because he was invested in a wood pigeon argument,” Selene conceded.

“A what?” John pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. “My life used to be so boring, so normal, I miss that.”

Selene didn’t look like she believed him.

“Let’s think about this logically,” John tried again. “Do you know if she had her phone on her when she left?”

“No.”

“And you tried calling it and got no answer?”

“Yes.”

“Did it ring or go straight to voicemail?”

“It rang.”

“That’s good, that means I can track it,” he assured her. “Don’t worry, I’ll find her.”

It took less than a minute for John to find her phone and pinpoint its location.

“She’s moving, at around thirty miles an hour, so I’d say in a car, on the outskirts of London but heading towards the city center,” John told them.

“We need to find her, we need to go get her, she could be with anyone, he could be a murderer or like a...a...a telemarketer or something.”

That set Scott off again, his howl of laughter almost drowning out Selene’s growl of warning.

“Don’t worry, we’ll save her from any potentially murderous salesmen,” John promised her, both of them ignoring Virgil’s muffled laughter. “But it would be hard for us to take any of the crafts there and be able to land and find her and it’ll take too long if we go in the car.”

“So what do we do?” Selene demanded to know, her fingers gripping his arm tightly. “I’ve already lost Dad, I can’t have anything happen to her too.”

Selene always had a tendency to straddle the line of the dramatic with a side step into overreacting, but John had only seen her genuinely scared a handful of times, he recognised the signs and this was one of them. Her pupils were dilated and her breathing was a little fast but she was still ranting, which was a good sign, it was when she went totally silent you really had to worry, although she was definitely heading in that direction.

“We’ll find her,” he promised, pressing a kiss to her forehead before getting back to business and opening up a line to five. “EOS, I need you to keep tracking Mrs Tempest’s signal, can you do that for me, please?”

“Of course, John,” EOS replied but, instead of vanishing as she usually did, she stayed active, hesitating in a very human-like way before asking her question. “Is there something wrong with Grandma Tempest?”

“We don’t know,” John answered honestly, still fiddling with something on his tablet. “I’m going to call Penelope and send her and Parker, they’re closer and know the city better than we do.”

“Good plan,” Scott agreed. He’d finally sobered and, seeing that Selene was genuinely worried, was feeling bad that he hadn’t taken the situation a little more seriously. They had been targeted before and would no doubt be targeted again and he was kicking himself for not having put more security measures in place for their extended family. “Tracy Island to Lady Penelope.”

Lady Penelope’s image popped out of the projector in the center of the table. “Scott, what can I do for you?”

“Hi, Lady Penelope, we were wondering if you could help us with something?”

“That depends on-”

Selene waved her hand to get the other woman’s attention. “My mum’s missing, my brother said she’s gone off with a strange man we don’t know and he’s got her in a car heading to London.”

“We need you to track them down and retrieve Mrs Tempest if there is a need,” John continued, catching Selene’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I really wish I could help,” Penelope said regretfully. “But I’m in Switzerland at an environmental conference for Friends Of The Earth, I’m giving a speech on that new wind turbine that Brains allowed to use the generator he patented, I can’t leave. Parker is at home though, because the rugs are scheduled to be cleaned tomorrow, so I’m sure he’d be willing to lend a hand.”

“Perfect, thank you, and have a good conference,” John cut the connection and pulled up another to Parker’s communication signal.

To their surprise the comm, when it flared to life, didn’t show the inside of the manor as they had expected but the familiar interior of FAB 1.

“Yes, Master John?”

“Parker, we need your help with a-” John was unceremoniously shoved aside by his ever loving wife when the sound of a delicate cough sounded from behind Parker.

“Mum?”

Celia’s head popped around the seat, coming into full view.

“Oh, hello, darling.” Celia gave them all a little wave, like a queen greeting her subjects.

“I think we found the big overcompensating car,” Virgil grinned.

“Mum! What the hell? You’ve had me worried half to death, I thought you’d been kidnapped or something, I thought a salesman had stolen you to sell on the black market,” Selene stepped awkwardly over John’s feet, beginning to pace angrily.

“Well, I’m sorry to have made you worry, dear, but as you can see I’m perfectly fine.”

“No! That’s not good enough. I remember the ball ache you gave me when I accidentally stayed out all night because I fell asleep at Jamie’s place and you thought I’d been murdered because my phone was dead. Now you do the same, going out on a date with a man I don’t know-”

“You know me, Miss Selene,” Parker interrupted but soon shut up when Selene transferred her glare to him before flinging it back full force at her mum.

“You didn’t call, you didn’t let me know you’d be out, I’ve been calling for hours-”

“Selene, it’s 7:36 that's hardly hours-”

“I made my husband come home from space,” she screamed. “FREAKING SPACE! And you’re out having yourself a lovely time while I was going out of my mind! Adam didn’t know where you were, he said you were out with some flamenco dancing bull fighter and you couldn’t even drop me a text?”

Selene wound down, trying to catch her breath, her chest heaving as she tried not to cry from the mixture of frustration and relief that was assaulting her.

“Don’t you take that tone with me young lad-”

“You and I will be having a serious chat when you get home,” Selene warned her mother, shutting off the comm with a vicious finger stab to the off button.

“And people think I’d be the strict parent,” John muttered under his breath.

“Damn, she can be scary,” Virgil whispered to Scott who huffed out the breath he’d been holding, nodding in agreement.

“At least we found her, she’s safe with Parker, you know that,” John soothed, reaching out a hand to tug her back down onto the couch. “She’s fine, you can yell at her all you want tomorrow.”

“No! She can't get away with-”

John silenced her with a quick kiss.

“Don’t make me tell you to calm down,” John threatened lightly, “I like my balls where they are.”

“He wouldn’t dare, would he?” Virgil side whispered to Scott who shrugged in answer.

“Not if he knows what’s good for him,” he whispered back, no one ever told Selene to calm down and lived to tell the tale. They both watched the tense set of Selene’s shoulders and wondered if they might have to dive in and perform a daring rescue after all.

John lifted one eyebrow in question, directing it at his wife who raised her own in return. It was an eyebrow standoff until, finally, she gave up the fight and dropped her head to rest on his shoulder. Having tamed the savage beast he slid his arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

Everyone was quiet for a few minutes, just decompressing from the drama of the past half-hour. But, of course, it was Scott that cleared his throat to break the silence.

Everyone looked at him expectantly waiting for him to impart whatever wisdom he had to give about the weird situation.

“Well,” he started, choking on a laugh, "at least we found Al Mungo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image by the amazing @TheRebelFlower


End file.
